Dancing with the Dragon
by shadowroxas101
Summary: AU, human names. Alfred, an American police officer working for the Moscow police, absolutely despises the mafia. However, after a night at the bar, Alfred finds himself infatuated with the handsome, yet cruel head of the Russian Bratva. USxRussia
1. Chapter 1

Hello amazing people of the world of fanficiton! I couldn't stand it, I've been so caught up with Hetalia lately and this story has just been so much fun to write that I just HAD to post it on fanficiton. I swear to all my loyal fans that I WILL finish all my other stories, it's just a matter of what I'm in the mood to write at the moment and right now it's Hetalia. Anyway, I shall finish everything.

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><p>Winter was and always will be a prominent part of life in Russia. The cold and the land were coinciding entities. One would not exist without the other, and the people who live there had come to accept and live with this fact. This, however, was not the case with Alfred Jones.<p>

A young American, born and raised in Virginia; Alfred moved out to Moscow two years ago to work as an officer for the Russian police department. He had almost immediately regretted the decision. The first thing he'd noticed was the cold, and the second was the snow. The third thing that had caught his attention was that as the long and bitter winter came to a close and spring melted the snow, masses of bodies began appearing all over the city like a plague. After this first winter, Alfred began to hate the snow with a passion.

"Alfred."

The younger officer didn't even so much as blink at as his name was called. His eyes were still trained on the window, his cheek resting firmly in the palm of his hand and his elbow sat propped up atop the diner table.

Nikolai grunted, the larger man leaning back in his seat, arms folded over his thick chest. "Alfred!" he shouted, startling half the patrons in the diner who spilled their lukewarm coffees on their laps.

"It's snowing outside," Alfred replied, his words soft and slightly irritated. His eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, almost as if he were inwardly cursing the fluffy white flakes.

Nikolai swished the vodka in his glass around before taking a small swig. "It does that a lot here, comrade."

"It's the first snow of the year."

"Ah," the older man nodded, "so that's why you looked like you were contemplating the universe. I figured you couldn't possibly become so pensive in such a short amount of time."

Alfred gave the other an un-amused look, then let his head slide further down his arm until it rested on the cool table. Everyone in this profession knew what the first snow of the year meant. It meant that it was the start of their busiest season, one that always went off with a bang. By the time morning came around, there was no doubt that the two cops would be flooded with calls coming in about bodies turning up in streets and alleyways, down in the Metro and in apartment buildings. There would be many sleepless and bloody nights for the next few months. It just seemed that winter in these parts brought out the worst in people.

There was a special group in particular that gave the Moscow police the most trouble. It was one that Alfred had heard of many, many times, and one that left Alfred cleaning up their messes on numerous occasions. The local Russian mafia was one of the most notorious, yet untraceable criminal organizations in all of Moscow. They contributed to at least eighty five percent of the city's murders, and from what Alfred had been told during his time in the force, the police interacted with them often. However, due to various briberies and deals within the system, there wasn't anything anyone could do about the group's actions. Alfred was determined to put an end to all of this. No matter how long it took and how many criminals he put behind bars, Alfred would put an end to the Russian mafia. He did like to think himself a hero, after all, and heroes protected innocent citizens no matter what country they were in.

"I'm just so sick and tired of all the murders in this city," Alfred said. He lifted his head from the table, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"No, you're just tired that no one will give you any information on the head of the mafia." Nikolai smirked down into his vodka, and took another quick swig. He set the glass onto the table with a content sigh. "You really should just give up on finding him, Al. Even if you somehow managed to pry some information out of the other investigators and you did get close to the guy, you'd just end up getting shot in the head." He lifted his hand, imitating a gun as he pointed to his temple, "Bang. Just like everybody else that ever got close enough to be a nuisance."

"So?" the younger pouted, sticking out his lower lip a bit.

Good, Nikolai didn't enjoy being around serious Alfred. That man was a killjoy. Regular Alfred was much more entertaining to be around, even if his type of humor was a little different.

"Somebody's gotta get this guy off the streets. It may as well a hero like me!" A wide grin spread over his pink lips as he thrust his thumb toward his chest. Nikolai rolled his eyes. "Besides, even if I do get taken out, I plan on getting as much information as I can so the good cops like us can finally get somewhere. Think about it, lower crime rate, less murders, hardly any bodies to clean up; I don't know about you, but sounds like heaven to me."

"It does sound nice. But I don't think I'll be letting my partner commit suicide any time soon. It'll take too long to break in a new one."

Alfred gave a small, dog-like snort and pushed himself out of his seat. "Whatever. By the time you find someone to replace me, you'll be too damn old to remember where you parked your squad car. Maybe you should think about retiring, old man." Nikolai shook his head, leaning over the table and taking another swig of vodka.

"Where are you going, comrade?" Nikolai asked as Alfred began toward the door.

"The bar," came the blunt response. The small bell chimed as the door was pushed open, then again as it swung shut.

Alfred shivered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his large brown aviator coat. The coat had been a gift from his father, an Air Force veteran. It was his most cherished position… well, that and a silver chain necklace his brother had given him back in the states. Alfred never went out without having both items on his person.

The already thick snow on the ground crunched heavily beneath his boots. He hadn't bothered driving; the diner was well within walking distance from his flat, as well as the bar.

Alfred was a tall, well built man. He didn't appear heavily muscled, as he was almost always in larger clothing even during the warmer months, so it was common for others to underestimate him. And there really wasn't any problem with that. Alfred quite enjoyed having the element of surprise on his side. His eyes were a brilliant sky blue, their beauty obscured by the glasses that sat on his nose. Though contacts would save him the trouble of constantly trying to adjust the damn things all the time, they were a bother to put up with. Not only that, but they were expensive as all get out. His hair was a bit shaggy, a darker, wheat colored blond, his light skin still clinging to the remnants of a tan he'd once had spending time outside in the US. Alfred took pride in his appearance, and always took time during his morning routine to make himself thoroughly presentable.

He pushed the door open, shaking off the loose snow from his clothes and hair as he stepped inside. The bar wasn't anything special, just a run-of-the-mill joint that served anyone and everyone who walked in the door with the same amount of faintly hidden contempt and blatant disregard. It reeked of cigarettes and sweat that radiated from the patrons as well as some of the employees. As long as you had money, they could care less who stepped through the door.

Alfred casually strode inside, passing drunkards spending half a day's paycheck for watered down vodka, and prostitutes looking for an honest day's pay as he wandered up to the bar. He plopped down on a stool and ordered a beer, not that he didn't enjoy vodka, it just wasn't something he drank recreationally.

The barkeeper spared him the odd looks, well aware of Alfred's habit of coming in and avoiding the Russian water. He handed the officer an amber bottle of Jack Daniel's and continued his work serving the other customers.

Placing the bottle to his lips, Alfred tilted his head back and allowed the thick liquid to drain down his throat. His eyes ghosted over the people in the bar, finding no one of interest to associate with. He normally wasn't the type of person to scan the bars for potential flings. Alfred was a guy who believed in loyalty and love, but being a single man, _and_ one with a stressful job at that, it was becoming more and more common for the officer to bring home a couple of one night stands every now and again.

Alfred sighed and turned back his beer bottle, his hand absentmindedly fingering the chain around his neck. God, he missed his brothers. Maybe he could give them a call when he decided to go home. With the time difference, it was probably somewhere around noon over there, and it was better than just sitting around with nothing better to do.

The door to the bar opened, clicking as it slid shut. Alfred didn't bother looking up. He was too lost in old memories to bother; caught up in the time he and his younger brother, Matthew, attended a World Series game during his birthday. That had been one of the best days of his life.

He felt the space next to him become occupied, the air growing slightly warmer with the new presence. Only then did he cast a glance upward, finding his eyes widen for a brief instant before he turned away.

The man beside him was tall, _very _tall. Even with his heavy tan overcoat, Alfred could see the guy had a broad chest and shoulders. The pale, pink scarf that wound around his neck hung nearly to the floor. His hair was very light in color; Alfred couldn't tell if it was silver or an overly platinum blond. And his eyes, they were even more confounding. They appeared to be purple, a light violet or a deep amethyst. He wore a bright, child-like smile, his skin nearly as white as the snow that fell outside. What surprised Alfred the most, however, was that he'd managed to notice all of this within a span of two seconds.

"A bottle of vodka, please," the man asked, his voice bubbly yet lacking any warmth to it, just like the smile on his lips. It was fairly creepy, but Alfred paid it no mind.

The bartender shrugged, and handed the man his drink. Alfred pulled his eyes back to his drink, forcing his stare onto the tawny liquid inside. Out of his peripheral vision, Alfred caught sight of the violet eyes landing briefly on him.

"Stressful day at work?"

Alfred looked up, blue eyes meeting violet. He blinked, then slowly looked back at the bottle in his hands, a bitter smile staining his lips. "Yeah," he sighed.

The man chuckled lightly, leaning an arm on the bar and positioning himself to better look at the American. "I didn't think you were Russian. Your skin is too tan and your hair is a color not normally found around this city."

"Um, thank you?" You'd think the fact that he was drinking something other than vodka or wine would give it away, not the color of his hair.

The larger man swiveled on the bar stool and made to stand. "My apologies. I'm making you uncomfortable, da? You looked like you could use someone to talk to, so I decided to sit next to you. But if you don't want me here, I'll go."

Alfred blinked a bit in surprise, but quickly shook his head. "No, I'm not uncomfortable. You can keep sitting here. It's nice to chat with someone who isn't piss drunk or trying to get into my pants for money." He offered the other a wide but sincere grin and extended his hand politely. "My name's Alfred. Alfred Jones."

The other smiled as well, his lips pulling up a hair further but never exposing teeth. It was the same smile as earlier, just with a bit more warmth to it. He took the offered hand in his own gloved one and shook it firmly. "Ivan Brakinski. It's a pleasure, Alfred."

"Likewise."

Ivan placed the bottle to his lips and took a swig, his violet eyes staying on the American. Strangely, Alfred didn't mind this, inhaling a bit of his own drink as well.

"So, I've never seen you in this place before. You out here on business, or something?" Alfred asked, trying his best to strike up conversation that may hopefully lead to… well, something else. He wasn't certain about the guy's intentions, but hey, if he didn't swing that way it wouldn't be _much _of a loss.

"Da, something like this. My work doesn't allow me to get away much, so after some business in the area I decided to sneak away for a drink." He smiled cutely, and Alfred couldn't help but chuckle a little. It was surprising how such a big guy could look so much like a little kitten. "I'm guessing you must come here often if you remember everyone who walks through the door."

Alfred smiled sheepishly, his free hand carding through his still snow-dampened hair. "Well, this is kind of like my second home. I don't remember everybody I see, but I think I would've remembered if I had seen you in here before. It's not often people who actually have money find their way in here."

"Well, I don't know whether to be flattered or nervous that what I'm ingesting may not be sanitary." He eyed his bottle of vodka wearily for a moment before setting it back on the bar. Both men laughed.

Their conversation continued on like this well into the night. In his two years here, Alfred had never had so much fun talking with someone. This was mostly because his Russian was still flawed, and many of the natives who heard his accent immediately labeled him as a stupid, narcissistic American. So, there wasn't really any mystery why Alfred's only 'friends' consisted of other officers down at the station. But, it really seemed like Ivan could care less about where he was from, and it showed in the cheerful way he spoke to him.

Alfred sighed, sapphire eyes drifting over the remains of beer and vodka bottles. He felt a little tipsy, but he could definitely steer himself home without passing out in a snowdrift somewhere. Ivan, however, only looked slightly buzzed, despite having downed far more alcohol than the American.

Ivan stood and shook Alfred's hand. "I had a lot of fun here tonight, Alfred, but it appears it is time for me to get back to work. Here," He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out what looked like a business card, and handed it to Alfred, "In case you'd like to get together for another drink." The card was virtually blank other than the man's name and a phone number. Alfred felt a small blush dust his cheeks.

"Heh, thanks. Another get together sounds fun."

Ivan smiled, giving a small nod before taking his leave. That sure was a pretty smile. Alfred looked at the small card sitting in his hand. That's right, he never managed to ask what it was Ivan did for a living. And though the tall Russian had seemed curious about Alfred's line of work, they'd never managed to cover that either. Oh well.

oOxoxOo

Ivan wandered down the icy streets –well, _stalked_ is more like it-. His glove hands sat in the deep pockets of his trench coat, the right one fingering something metallic and warm from the body heat surrounding it. The warm smile he had left the bar with no longer held any warmth, becoming cold and soulless as it had been earlier that day. It was terrifying, really. However, that same look that left so many scarred and cowering in fear had had no effect on the little American sitting at the bar.

His mind wandered back to the blond, a hint of warmth returning briefly to the icy smile. It really had been nice to get away from his everyday life, having someone to talk to who didn't know the real him and may never will. It also didn't hurt that Alfred had been attractive.

Those thoughts quickly faded away as violet eyes spotted a man with white hair leaning against the side of a black limousine a few yards away. The albino was clearly focused on something else as his red eyes never strayed from the little electronic device in his hand. Ivan smirked as he strode up to him.

"Waiting for someone, Gilbert?"

The white-haired man startled, pulling a gun from a holster strapped to his waist and aiming it at the taller man. Ivan was quick to do the same, removing the pistol from his coat pocket just as swiftly as the other.

"Oh, s-sorry, boss," the other laughed nervously, tucking the weapon away. Again, Ivan did the same. "Didn't realize it was you." Though he spoke Russian, his voice held a thick German accent. He pulled open the door to the limousine as Ivan rose a suspicious brow.

"Well now, you must have known it was me," Ivan gave the other a child-like smile, "otherwise you wouldn't have been waiting here in the first place. Who told you where to find me, Beilshmidt? I don't remember telling any of my men where I had gone to." He eyed the German cryptically, causing the other man to tremble.

"U-Um, Ludwig told me you had d-disappeared around this area. I figured you'd probably be off getting wasted at the only bar around and would need a ride home." Gilbert gave the man a nervous smile, running his pale, pale hand through his hair.

Ivan continued to stare down the German for another minute, that same eerie smile still on his face. Finally, he slid into the vehicle, leaving the other to utter a sigh of relief, and allowed the door to be closed behind him.

Leave it to Ludwig to give away his only hiding spot, and to that loud mouth brother of his, no less. Well, at least the man was taking his job seriously. Ivan felt the limo skid slightly as Gilbert struck a piece of black ice and it reminded him that he should probably have new tires put on.

He reached into back into his pocket, maneuvering past the gun and retrieving his cell phone. As soon as he heard the phone click on the other end, the Russian gave no chance for the other to speak. "Toris, is Ludwig there?"

"_U-um, yes," _a shaky voice replied on the other end, _"Do you need to speak with him?"_

"Nyet. Has he informed anyone of my whereabouts?" Ivan's eyes were trained on the passing scenery, his hands absentmindedly fiddling with the locks on the door.

"No, nobody knows where you are. Why, did something happen? Do you need someone to pick you up from where you're at?"

Good, so Gilbert was the only one he'd told. Hopefully, things would stay that way. Ivan had quite hoped to be able to get another drink with Alfred, and the last thing he wanted was his work interfering. "Nyet, that won't be necessary, Toris. But I would like to have the tires on my limousine changed; the black one, not the white one. And a bottle of vodka waiting in my room." Sure he had just guzzled about a gallon of the Russian water a few minutes ago, but it would be nice to have some that didn't taste so much like it came from a fish tank.

"Of course, boss."

Ivan flipped his phone closed and pushed it back down into his pocket, allowing his leather clad fingers to ghost over the metal of his gun once more. It was becoming something of a habit lately. Having a weapon on hand at all times was conduit to a peace of mind, especially when your enemies consisted of all of Russia and parts of three other countries. It was hard work being a part of the Russian Bratva.

oOxoxOo

Alfred collapsed heavily onto the lumpy mattress; the metal springs digging into his back through the material. He groaned and rolled over onto his side. No matter how hard he tried, the American just couldn't get those amethyst eyes out of his head. He wanted nothing more than to call the silver-haired man back right that instant! But that would probably be a little weird. Therefore, Alfred did the best he could to restrain himself. Instead, he flicked on the TV and tried to let his mind go numb as he listened to the reporter blather on in Russian about murders and riots, communist coups and reports of witnesses spotting Stalin's ghost in the subways. It only served to depress the already downcast officer, rubbing it in his face that he couldn't go out and fix the world's problems all on his own.

He pulled out his phone and held down the speed dial, then confirmed that he would, in fact, like to accept the charges for the long distance call. Alfred wasn't exactly made of money, his apartment was a dead give away for that fact, so he simply prayed that the other would pick up.

"Hello?" a soft voice answered.

Alfred's face instantly lit up in a wide grin. "Mattie!" he chirped, "Man, I was beginning to think you weren't gonna answer!"

"Al? Shouldn't you be asleep right now?"

"Aw, come on, Mattie. Is it really that annoying to have a conversation with your big bro?" God, it was nice to be able to speak English again for a change.

"You know I didn't mean it like that, you Russian hoser," the other chuckled lightly. "So how's it like over there? Catching a lot of bad guys lately? You're not turning into a communist, are you?"

It was Alfred's turn to laugh. "Of course I'm not turning into a communist! I'm still an American through and through! And the day I don't catch at least one criminal will be the day Russia actually reaches temperatures over zero degrees. This place is worse than Detroit with all the murders and gun crime."

"Wow. Now you're making me regret letting you leave. Try not to get hurt, kay? You know me and Arthur worry about you."

"Yeah, I know," Alfred smiled, fiddling with his shoelaces. He'd forgotten to take off his boots. "Speaking of the old guy, is he over there?"

"No, he's probably with Francis right now. Ever since you left, they've been spending a lot of time together."

"Ew, that's sorta creepy. I thought he hated that pedo Frenchy."

"Same here, but I guess he's gotten better. He must have for Arthur to agree to date him."

"Yeah, must've," Alfred muttered, now onto his socks. It was a lot more difficult to take the damn things off without using your hands, especially when the world is still spinning around you. "Well, I'll try not to get killed for ya."

"You'd better do a little more than try."

"Yeah, yeah. I gotta hit the hay. Nice chattin' with ya, Mattie. Tell Artie I think his boyfriend's a real catch, and imply the sarcasm this time, will ya?"

"Alright. Night Al."

Alfred flipped his phone closed and pulled his eyes up to the water stained ceiling. As his eyes slipped closed, he couldn't help but allow his mind to wander back to Ivan. God, he hoped that phone number meant what he thought it meant.

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><p>I really hope you all enjoyed this first chapter. If you could, please review. I would love that very much.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred grimaced a bit at the mangled body below him, the smell of a fresh corpse wafting up his nostrils. He was used to the sight by now, but it was the smell that still got him.

The man stared up at him with slatted, lifeless eyes. His mouth was slightly parted, allowing the blood to trickle down and dry on his blue lips. Another stream of dried blood also flowed from a bullet hole in his forehead. He must've been around his mid twenties or early thirties, just like most of the other bodies strewn about the building. Each of them had either been shot or had their heads smashed in by what appeared to have been a blunt, metal object.

"So what do you think?" Nikolai asked. His arms were crossed over his chest as his gray eyes scanned over the body, head tilted slightly to the side to get a better angle.

Alfred pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "Isn't it obvious? The numbers are too large for it to have been a random killing and according to the few officers that are willing to give out information, all of these men were part of the Chinese mafia." He nudged the body with his foot. "There's only one suspect that could've done this. The Russian mafia."

"Da, I know. I just wanted to hear you say it." He smirked over at his partner, who simply returned it with a halfhearted glare. Nikolai sighed and stretched his arms high over his head. "Everyone knows it too, so there is no case here. All that's left is for the clean up crew to dispose of the bodies. You should really stop this obsession of yours before _you_ wind up with a bullet in your head too, comrade."

"That's not going to happen," Alfred replied icily, turning away from the crime scene. "Everyone around here's so Goddamned afraid of those people that they don't even _try_ to stop them! If I don't, then who else is gonna put an end to these guys?"

The sight of all these murders was really starting to grate at the edges of Alfred's mind. How could people in this city just sit back and watch as countless people are slaughtered daily? It's ridiculous! Alfred was determined to put a stop to all of this, even if he only succeeded in taking out the guy in charge, at least he would prove that it could be done.

oOxoxOo

The light violet was tainted with bloodlust and malice, the smile as frozen as the snows outside. His large, gloved hand gripped the steel faucet pipe while the other ran the palm along the cool metal. All the while, large, frightened eyes stared transfixed on the tall Russian.

The man squirmed and thrashed about in the chair as Ivan took a step forward, the ropes binding his wrists rubbing the tender flesh raw. How Ivan adored seeing the utter terror he inflicted on his captives engraved in the depths of their eyes. It made a pleasurable shiver run down his spine every time he looked into them.

Ivan extended the top part of the pipe outward, tucking it under the trembling man's jaw and forcing his head upward. "Alik," he said slowly, his voice eerily calm and soft. The aura surrounding the Russian man screamed 'death'. "Tell me, what exactly was it you told our little Asian friends? Because of you, many of my men were killed; many strong, _trustworthy _men."

Ivan leaned in slightly closer, causing Alik to jerk his head back in fear. Though his face was dripping with sweat, the frightened man said nothing. The silver-haired Russian sighed, removing the pipe from the man's jaw. He stroked it fondly as he turned, taking a few steps away from the chair before wheeling back, striking Alik in the side of the head. It wasn't enough force to kill the poor man, or even enough to knock him unconscious. Ivan wanted to make sure his prey could feel every ounce of pain he was about to inflict. There was a sharp cry, one that made the smile on Ivan's face grow wider, and Alik's head dropped against his chest as he panted harshly, blood dripping from his lips. Ivan brought the pipe to his chin again, tilting it back upward.

"I hope that hurt," Ivan chuckled lightly, "because if you fail to give me the information I seek, you will receive much more than that, I guarantee it, my friend. The time it takes for you to tell me is the difference between hours of painful torture and a quick bullet through the head. Personally, if I were in your position, I would take the bullet. Now," he brought the pipe away for a brief moment before ramming it into the man's abdomen, causing Alik's eyes to bulge and a torrent of blood to spill from his mouth. "are you going to tell me…or not?"

Just then, a soft rapping at the door brought the Russian's eyes away from the pitiful creature before him, his smile replaced by a dissatisfied scowl. He _hated_ being interrupted. "Da, come in," he called. His eyes fell one last time on Alik before he sighed, disappointed that his fun was cut short. He picked up a rag and began cleaning the blood from his faucet pipe as the door squeaked open, Ravis timidly peaking his head inside.

"U-Um, boss?" the young boy peeped. The little Latvian was still only fourteen, the youngest member in all of the Russian mafia. His father had been one of Ivan's most trusted friends, so upon his death, the man had left little Ravis in the mafia head's care.

The child-like smile reappeared on the Russian's face as he turned to face the boy. "Ravis, you know I don't like to be interrupted when I'm talking with people, malyutka. This had better be important, da?"

The little blond boy instantly stiffened when the soulless, amethyst eyes fell on him. He swallowed hard, doing his best not to simply pass out in the terrifying man's presence. "I-I-It is s-sir," he said quickly, "Y-Yao is h-here, a-and he wishes to speak with you."

"Oh really?" Ivan asked, the smile widening just the slightest fraction. He set his pipe onto a nearby table, completely forgetting his earlier victim. Ravis froze as Ivan walked out the door passed him, then quickly followed after the tall Russian. "Did he say why he was here?"

"N-N-No, j-just that he wanted to sp-speak with you. G-Gilbert a-and Ludwig are in the room with him r-right now, b-but so far he hasn't tried anything."

"This is good." However, Ivan couldn't help but wonder about the Chinese man's intentions for coming. Although, Ivan was pretty sure it probably had something to do with the masses of Chinese mafia that were slaughtered the night before. If anything this was certain to be entertaining.

Ravis pulled open the enormous red door leading to Ivan's study as the man walked through. Gilbert and another large, blond man stood on either side of the chair facing Ivan's work desk, both wielding rifles over their shoulders. Seated in the chair sat a much smaller man compared to the two Germans standing beside him. His thin frame was adorned in a bright red shirt, the edges embroidered in gold trim. The long, inky black hair sat restricted in a ponytail against his back. He gave the Russian a bright yet devious smile as Ivan took the seat across from him.

"Ah, Ivan, it's good to see you," the head of the Chinese mafia greeted, his Russian marred by his rather interesting accent.

Ivan didn't bother with pleasantries, instead opting on getting straight to the point. He wanted to know what this man needed, and then he wanted him out of his home. "Why are you here, Yao?" he asked, the usual smile replaced by a rare frown.

Yao leaned comfortably back in the red, leather chair, entwining his hands behind his head. "It appears your men and mine had a bit of a misunderstanding at one of my 'factories'. Thirty of my men were killed, and I understand you lost many of yours as well. Tell me, why is this?"

"Do not misinterpret my intentions, comrade. I have no interest in any of your dreary opium dens. I got a tip that one of my men decided to 'liberate' some information to your men that wasn't his to give. You realize I could not let that information leak out, da?" Ivan's eyes wandered over to Ludwig; the blond, German man not looking the slightest bit interested in the conversation taking place. He still needed to question his bodyguard, but that could wait until later.

"And how do you know that this information you speak of has not already reached my ears, _comrade_?" The smirk spread a bit wider over the mafia leader's face, his eyes narrowing in the slightest bit. He was bluffing and Ivan knew it, however he decided to sit back and let the man continue. "I will not overlook the slaughter of my men so easily, so expect to see me again very soon."

"Don't worry, I shall," Ivan smiled, the dark aura making itself present once again.

Both Gilbert and Ludwig kept their guns pointed at the Chinaman as he stood and made his way over to the door. His hand sat on the handle as he turned back to the Russian, "Oh, almost forgot. How is Feli doing? I hear our dear little Lovi and Romulous are holding quite the grudge against you for taking him."

Ivan could see Ludwig visibly become nervous, his light blue eyes falling to the ground as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The large German was quite fond of the little Italian he'd recently acquired. "Don't worry, I am taking good care of him. Be sure to tell Romulous the next time you see him, da?" The Russian chuckled lightly, the sound causing the smaller man to shiver. "Oh, and speaking of keeping an eye on family, you'd better keep a close one on those brothers of yours as well, Yao. Kiku and Yong Soo would make a nice addition to my little family, too, da?"

Yao didn't reply, the sound of the door slamming echoing through the large house.

The Russian turned his attention back to Ludwig, eyeing him suspiciously. The Arian man was one of Ivan's most trusted men, aside from Ravis, Eduard and Toris, so he didn't very much like having to question the younger man's intentions.

"Ludwig," he said lightly, not wanting to cause any unnecessary fear in the German…yet.

Ludwig wheeled swiftly, his posture becoming perfectly erect, much like a soldier addressing a commanding officer. "Yes, Mr. Braginski," the man stated.

"I had nearly forgotten to ask you…about your actions the night before," Ivan smiled, leaning back in his chair and allowing his boots to clunk heavily atop the wooden desk. "I believe I entrusted you with the job of not revealing my location to anyone in the house."

"Ja, you did, sir," Ludwig nodded. If he was uneasy, he didn't show it. Ivan always found this trait of the man quite amusing.

"Da, I did. So tell me, why was it Gilbert waiting for me with the limo instead of you?" It was Gilbert's turn to become nervous, the albino running his hand worriedly over the back of his hair.

Ludwig shifted his weight again, his apprehension beginning to make itself known. "I didn't trust the safety of the area. I thought it would be best to have someone else know where you were in case something happened. As your bodyguard, your safety is my top priority." A bead of sweat rolled from his forehead down to his chin.

"Your job is not to 'think', Beilshmidt, it is to do as I tell you. If I do not want anyone to know my location, then you will not tell a soul, not even your brother, is this understood?" Ludwig nodded, looking decidedly like a child being scolded by a parent. "You are lucky your intentions were pure, otherwise," Ivan fingered the handgun sitting in the middle of the desk, his cold, violet eyes never leaving the German, "I may have to take your dear little Feliciano away again."

The blond's face instantly paled, his light blue eyes going wide. "Please, sir," he said quickly, the professional tone still remaining in his voice, "I swear, I will not disobey your orders again."

Ivan giggled at the pitiful state of his guard, how the strong mercenary was reduced to a quivering and pleading mess. It was so much fun to torture people. "Da, I know you won't." He cast a glace over at Gilbert, his smile widening when he saw the man jump just the slightest bit. Ivan waved the two off, and both immediately took their leave.

Those two could be nuisances at times, but they were definitely worth keeping around. After Ivan's father wiped all branches of the German mafia from the face of the planet, the two brothers were immediately given the position of Ivan's bodyguards, and they took their jobs _very _seriously.

Ivan sighed softly, reaching into one of his desk drawers. He needed a glass of vodka, badly. Setting the bottle on the desk, along with a small shot glass, Ivan was about to pour himself a drink when the phone in his pocket began to ring. He pulled it out, not recognizing the number, but decided to answer anyway. "Hello?"

"_Uh, hey," _an anxious voice answered on the other end, _"This is Alfred…from the other night?"_

At this, Ivan's smile instantly changed, the ice melting as it radiated warmth. "Da, Alfred. I remember you. I've never had so much fun conversing with someone before."

Alfred chuckled nervously on the other end. It sounded like he was walking somewhere outside. _"Heh, yeah. Me too. Today was pretty stressful and I figured I'd head down to the bar for a drink. Would you…mind joining me?"_

"Of course," Ivan replied, "It's the whole reason I gave you my number, da?" He was definitely looking forward to seeing the handsome American again, but he'd never expected to get a call from the man so soon.

"_Oh, yeah. Well, I'll be there."_

"I shall meet you there then."

oOxoxOo

Alfred's lower lip was practically bleeding with how hard he worried it. He'd never been so nervous talking to someone before in his entire life! However, when the Russian answered and he'd heard his voice, Alfred could feel his heart begin to pound in his chest.

"Kay," he smiled shakily, "see ya." The other said his goodbyes as well and Alfred flipped his phone closed, exhaling the breath he'd been holding in his chest. During the course of the previous night, Alfred had decided that a relationship with this man was worth perusing. So, he would confront Ivan tonight and get his ideas off his chest. If the guy wasn't playing for the same team, then that was all right. At least Alfred had tried. And hey, it wasn't like he would see him again. The man had only been there 'cause he'd had business in the area. It wasn't like he'd keep showing up at the bar every night. Alfred could live with a little rejection.

He sighed and pushed open the door to the bar. It had taken the entire trip there from the apartment for him to build up the courage to call. Alfred felt ridiculous, like a love struck schoolgirl asking out the sexy quarterback from the football team. God, he needed a drink before he decided to smash his head repeatedly into a brick wall.

He took his normal seat and ordered a Jack Daniel's, the only beer the bar carried. Alfred took a large gulp of the amber liquid and let his head fall against the bar. Compared to the snowy air outside, the wood against his head felt surprisingly warm.

After about two bottles and half a third, the door to the bar opened. Alfred's eyes shot upward, a wide grin spreading over his face as he saw the very person he'd been waiting for. "Just the person I was looking for," he chirped, patting Ivan on the back as the man took the seat beside him.

"It is a pleasure seeing you again as well, comrade," Ivan smiled. "I also had a rather stressful day, so your call made me glad."

"Heh heh, yeah," a small blush dusted across Alfred's cheeks as he carded his fingers through his hair.

Ivan didn't delve any deeper into his job, ordering a bottle of vodka instead, so Alfred decided not to press the subject. The two men talked for hours, though it really only felt like a few minutes. The Russian was surprisingly very curious about the younger man's home back in America, and Alfred gladly regaled him with a medley of tales from his childhood. Alfred tried to get the other to share a bit about his own past, but the other man would simply change the subject or dance around the question. It was strange, but Alfred could respect that there were things people preferred to keep secret. He sure as hell had his own skeletons buried deep in the recesses of his metaphorical closet.

However, as the hours dragged on, Alfred began to become more and more anxious. Not once during the night did it ever seem like a good time to bring up that question. He was going to have to force it somewhere into their conversation soon; otherwise this night would have been a waste. Well…maybe not a total waste. He was able to spend some time with his Russian crush, after all.

Alfred pulled his alcohol-glazed eyes up from his beer towards the Russian beside him. God, he looked gorgeous, and that wasn't just the beer goggles talking. Alright, it was now or never.

"Your apartment is close by, da?"

Alfred blinked a bit, his beer hazed mind taking slightly longer to decipher the sentence. From the way the Russian was slurring his words –well, more than usual-, it was obvious Ivan was just as smashed as Alfred. "Um, yeah."

"Would you mind greatly if I walked you home? I do not believe I'd forgive myself if you passed out on the street and froze." The smile on Ivan's face didn't portray any of the drunkenness that saturated his voice. He looked entirely sincere, which in all honesty surprised Alfred.

"Yeah, okay," the blond laughed and staggered a bit as he pulled himself to his feet. Ivan stood as well, nearly tripping over the barstool. Alfred caught his arm just before he fell, "Whoa, easy there, big guy."

Ivan chuckled, the bubbly sound matching his child-like expression perfectly. "Perhaps it will be you escorting me, not the other way around, da?"

Both men laughed as they left the bar, each with their arms draped around the other's shoulders for support. About three blocks from the bar, Ivan suddenly lost his balance, nearly causing the both of them to tumble into the snow. Luckily, Alfred was able to maintain his equilibrium enough to keep the large Russian from falling face first into the concrete. However, as the blond swung the other back upright, he squeaked as he found himself pinned up against a nearby brick wall, Ivan's thick build keeping the American firmly in place. His arms sat on either side of the American's head, palms flat against the wall while his legs straddled the blond's.

"H-H-Hey, w-what're you doin, big guy?" Alfred stuttered, all of his police training abandoning him. His alcohol hazed mind was having a difficult enough time comprehending the situation at hand let alone functioning enough to allow him to dig through his memories of combat training.

Alfred couldn't help but feel partially afraid of the enormous man looming over him. He was drunk enough he could barely stand, and a fight against a man Ivan's size without any weapons for protection spelled instant defeat. If Ivan decided right then to kill him, there was nothing Alfred to do about it.

The childish smile had transformed into a devious smirk, his amethyst eyes now a smoky purple, clouded over with what appeared to be lust and mischievous intent. One of the gloved hands left its spot against the wall to find a more intimate position on Alfred's cheek. It roamed, his thumb tracing over the smaller man's high cheekbones, then down over his jaw line and finally tracing the contours of his slender neck. Once he was done exploring –well for the moment- he placed his hand against the side of Alfred's head, massaging the small, reddened ear between his fingers, then leaned down and captured the blond's lips in his own.

Alfred's eyes widened sharply behind his glasses, his already flushed face lighting up in a deep scarlet. All he could comprehend were thick fingers running through his hair, and a pair of soft lips pressed against his own chapped ones. It didn't take long for the heat of the moment to engulf the officer as he hastily melted into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around the Russian's thick neck, grabbing fistfuls of the coarse, silver hair and crushing their lips together more firmly. They devoured each other, nipping and biting, fighting for dominance over one another until they were finally forced to come up for air.

Foggy blue stared into cloudy purple as the two panted for breath, then leaned in to capture the other's lips a second time. This time was gentler, almost hesitant in a way, as if both were testing the waters for something greater later on. They pulled apart slowly, the tips of their noses barely touching. "God, you're gorgeous," Alfred panted, glasses slightly askew.

Ivan removed his hand from the back of the blond's head, delicately fixing the eyewear so they sat more steadfast on the bridge of his nose. "Da, and you are beautiful, malyutka," the Russian replied. Alfred could feel his cheeks heat up in another blush. The smirk on Ivan's face faded back into his usual smile. "I believe you were escorting me to your apartment, da?"

Alfred blinked a bit, the sudden shift in mood too much for his mind to handle. "O-oh yeah," he stammered.

* * *

><p>Yeah, so I thought chapter two was much more interesting than chapter one. Poor Germany, he was just trying to be a good bodyguard. I am depriving you of the sex scenes for the time being, but I assure you there will definately be future ones. God I love RussiaxAmerica. Oh yeah, I also really wanna torture more people, and if you want that too then there will also be much more of that.<p>

Anywho, **please review**. I love all who do and shall give to them internet cookies and hugs!


	3. Chapter 3

Alfred groaned as his eyelids fluttered open, his conscious mind instantly struck with a throbbing headache. His ass hurt and he felt like he was going to be sick. What had he been doing last night? Oh yeah, he'd gone to the bar with Ivan. Guess he had a little too much to drink, there. If that'd been the case, how the Hell'd he manage to steer himself home? Thank God he had the day off today. He didn't know what he'd do if he had to go into the station hung over.

He grunted, the gray light outside stinging his sensitive eyes, and made to sit up, surprised when something large and warm held him fast. Alfred's eyes drifted over to the other side of the bed, his cheeks bursting in an explosion of red when he saw that his normally empty bed now occupied another entity. Ivan lay beside him, still fast asleep with a peaceful expression that could have put a sleeping puppy to shame. His chest was bare, exposing a canvas of pale, muscular flesh. The thing currently binding Alfred to the bed was the Russian's burly arm coiled protectively around his slim waist.

The movement caused a light stir in the silver-haired man, and Ivan subconsciously pulled the smaller American closer to his warm chest. All the while, Alfred's throbbing mind raced with explanations and worries of what had taken place the night before. He didn't remember much, other than the Russian had offered to escort him back to his apartment. So, what, did the two of them just happen to fall into bed together or had Alfred somehow seduced the man into sleeping with him? Both of those things had happened before in the blond's drunken past, so they were definitely a possibility.

Just then, his cell phone began to ring, startling the man from his thoughts. He clamored over the wall of muscle and snatched the device from the nightstand. "Hello?" he whispered, trying not to wake the sleeping bear beside him.

"_Al, why are you whispering?"_ Matthew asked, his soft voice making the question fairly ironic.

Alfred chuckled nervously, "Uh, it's nothing. Just a bit hung over from last night is all." Well, it wasn't entirely a lie. Suddenly, Alfred could feel the phone slip up out of his hand, and he turned back with a sharp, "Hey!"

Ivan smirked down at the American, causing a small bit of pink to tint his cheeks. Alfred could hear his brother on the other end asking his name as the Russian held the phone to his ear. "Sorry, Alfred's a bit busy at the moment. He'll have to call you back later." Alfred blinked, shocked to hear the accented English come from the silver-haired man's mouth. Ivan didn't give Matthew a chance to protest as he snapped the phone shut and set it back on the nightstand.

"You know English?" the blond asked, dumbstruck. Had he known that, he would've conversed with the man in his own language! It was hard work translating sentences in his mind from English to Russian.

"Of course," Ivan shrugged, as if this were an obvious fact, "I am fluent in many languages, _malyutka_. Why do you think I was not bothered by you being American?"

"I dunno," the blond shrugged, his lower lip sticking out in a small pout.

Ivan giggled at the sight, then leaned down and captured Alfred's lips in a chaste kiss. When he pulled away, the American's lips were still stuck out, his eyes closed. When he realized the kiss had already ended, his face lit up in a deep blush. "You are quite adorable. I hope you know this."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the blond grumbled, rolling himself out from under the sheets. He winced a bit as the pain in his rear sparked back to life. It brought back the question of what had happened the night before, but from the evidence already given, Alfred already knew the events that had probably taken place.

"So who was that on the phone?" Alfred looked back to find Ivan currently stretching himself out in his bed, making himself right at home in the tangled mess of sheets. He looked like a big cat waking up from a nap.

The blond stood, wincing again, and tried to hide his limp from the other man as he wandered over to his closet. "My brother, Mattie."

Ivan caught sight of the quick, pained expression on Alfred's face, as well as the slight falter in his stride. "Ah, I remember him from your stories last night. He's the one that lives in Canada, da? …Would you like for me to get you some ice, _malyutka_?"

If this continued any longer, Alfred's face was going to become permanently red. "Nah, I'm fine," he chuckled, the small bit of irritation in his tone going completely unnoticed by the other, "And yeah, that's him. He calls every morning 'cause that's really the only time we can talk. Well, I'm gonna take a shower. Make yourself at home, kay?" Though there probably wasn't really even a need to suggest it. The guy already looked as if he owned the place.

"You sure you would not like some company?" the other asked suggestively, laughing when he got yet another blush from the younger man. "No, I will stay here. You would not mind if I helped myself to your kitchen, da?"

"Nope, go right ahead." Ivan smiled at the younger, causing Alfred to give a timid grin of his own. The American still hadn't fully grasped the concept that the man he'd been pining for since he'd first laid eyes on him was now lying naked in his bed. Even though the awkwardness of it all still lingered in the air, somehow or another Alfred could feel small bit of warmth blooming in his chest. "Uh, Ivan?"

"Da, Alfred?"

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Um, about last night."

"Da, I quite enjoyed myself," Ivan chirped, "I hope maybe we could do it again sometime, but before that I'd like to take you somewhere, perhaps dinner, da? Unless, of course, you do not feel the same?"

"Huh? Uh, no, no I totally feel the same! Dinner sounds great, big guy!" Alfred laughed, the first genuine laugh since he'd awoken, a wide grin spread across his lips. "And, uh, we could totally get together afterward for that…other thing, too." He gave the other a sheepish smile, earning him another laugh.

"I'm glad to here that," the Russian smiled, standing from the bed. His toned body was completely exposed other than the pair of black boxers on his waist. He strode over to the bedroom door, stopping beside the still slightly flustered American. "You know, your English is a lot more entertaining than your Russian. You have much more emotion in your words, which sounds more pleasing to the ear. I would prefer to speak in English with you from now on, alright _malyutka_?" He bent over, placing a kiss on the other's head before wandering out the door. All the while, Alfred simply stared after him, still not quite certain what to make of the situation. After a moment, the blond shook his head, allowing a bright smile to grace his features, then made his way to the bathroom to clean the 'fun' from last night off his stomach.

Compared to what he'd originally thought, things were going quite well. Maybe a little weirder than expected, but still well. He'd definitely have to call Mattie later so he could brag about his new hot Russian boyfriend.

oOxoxOo

Ivan waited until he could here the shower come on in the bathroom, slipping on his black slacks and leaving his shirt and coat on the floor, and quickly pulling out his cell phone.

"_Boss! Where've you been! We all thought you disappeared!" _came the frazzled, obnoxious voice on the other end.

"It's none of your concern, Gilbert," he replied, his voice dropping twenty degrees in temperature. "Did the shipment arrive today?"

"_Ja. We counted. Everything was there."_

"Good. Did our Italian friends give you any trouble?" Ivan casually fingered some of the pictures Alfred had sitting out of himself and his brothers. He could only assume that the one that looked the most identical to his lover was Matthew, and that the shorter of the three was his older brother, Arthur.

"_A little, but we took care of it easily. Little Lovino was there along with his Spaniard mutt. They still aren't too happy about Feliciano, it appears."_

Ivan's silver brows furrowed a bit, but that quickly faded as his icy smile spread back over his lips. "It seems our dear Feli is getting to become more trouble than he's worth. Were any of our men killed?"

"_No, and only one wounded."_

"Then we can keep him around a while longer. However, tell your brother that if anymore of my men are killed because of his little boy-toy, we're going to have to get rid of him."

There was a small pause on the other end. Ivan knew that Feliciano meant a lot to the albino's brother, and the brunet was a good tool to use in keeping his 'German Shepard' in check. However, ever since they spirited the young mafia head away, they had been getting nothing but trouble from their Italian acquaintances. Not only that, but Feliciano still refused to side with the Russian mafia, protesting every show of kindness and promise of power given to him. No matter what was said, Feliciano still placed all of his faith in his grandfather's organization.

"_Ja, I'll tell him, boss," _Gilbert replied, his usual loud, grating voice lessening to a normal speaking volume. _"Do you need someone to bring the limo around to pick you up from wherever it is you are?"_

"No, not yet. Make sure those packages get delivered. Oh, and tell Feliciano I said hello." With that, Ivan flipped his phone shut.

It was a shame, really. He'd rather liked the little brunet Italian. His pasta wasn't half bad either. But, he had to do what must be done. Although, now that he thought about it, eliminating Feliciano may just spark an even bigger feud between the Russian and Italian mafias. Oh well, he'd go over his options later.

He could hear the water in the shower come to an abrupt halt, signaling it was time for him to find some breakfast. This was rather nice, Ivan found. It was pleasant to be able to have a separate life, one away from the Bratva. Not only that, but Ivan really enjoyed the light, warm feeling that rose in his chest whenever he was around the little American. He wanted nothing more then to spend all of his time with the cheerful, sunny entity that was Alfred. The younger man reminded him a lot of the sun; bright and warm. That was it; Alfred was his own personal sun, one that brought light and happiness into his otherwise dark and dismal life. Ivan was determined to keep his little sunflower as far from his other self as possible, even if it meant lying to the man.

Ivan still had his head stuck in the fridge when Alfred came into the kitchen, looking at its pitiful contents with a small frown. "You hardly have anything to eat in here, _malyutka_. How do you manage to keep yourself fed?"

Alfred shrugged, looking far more relaxed now than he had been earlier, with his wet hair and towel slung around the back of his neck. With how nervous and embarrassed he'd been, Ivan had been sure he'd done something to frighten the younger man off. He already scared everyone else; he hadn't wanted to scare Alfred away as well. However, it appeared the American had gotten over whatever had been bothering him, much to Ivan's relief.

"I usually just get something to eat downtown. I don't really have a lot of time or money to go grocery shopping or cook stuff." The Russian 'tsked', earning him a pout from the younger man, "What?"

Ivan crossed his arms over his broad chest, shaking his head in disappointment. "This will not do. I will not have my dear _malyutka_ live like this as long as I'm around." He took the other man's hand and began dragging him toward the door, "Come, I will take you shopping for food and then I will make you a real breakfast."

"Wait, what? Hey, hold on a minute," Alfred protested, trying to wriggle free of the Russian's vice-like grip.

"I will not accept no for an answer," the silverette said, a determination in his voice that made it sound more like he was charging into battle than going grocery shopping. He could not have his little sunflower living in such poor conditions.

"Well, that's fine and all, but don't you think you should at least put on a shirt so you don't freeze, big guy?" Alfred chuckled.

It was Ivan's turn to blush as he turned back to the other with a sheepish smile. "I guess that would be the smart thing to do, da?"

oOxoxOo

This whole thing was just a tad bit awkward. It was the first time Alfred had been taken grocery shopping by a boyfriend before. Not only that, but this boyfriend was rather adamant about purchasing everything that the American even gave a hint of liking to. By the time Alfred had decided to stop the Russian before the man wound up broke, they had filled two shopping carts with a mountain of food in each.

"Ivan, you don't have to do all this," Alfred chuckled nervously as the two made their way back toward the American's car, "Really. You're gonna go broke just buying me food." He absentmindedly picked up one of the boxes, eyeing the name and finding he didn't even know what it was.

Ivan cast the other a handsome smile, causing the American's mind to momentarily go blank. "Don't be ridiculous. I have plenty of money to spare; especially when the money spent is going towards something as important as keeping you properly fed. So do not be concerned about cost."

"Wow. You've gotta be the most amazing boyfriend in the world." Alfred grinned brightly up at the older man, earning him a momentary blush from Ivan.

However, that blush soon faded into a rather mischievous smirk hidden beneath his usual child-like smile. "Oh, _boyfriend _huh? I certainly hadn't thought it would have been _this _easy to steal your heart."

For once, the smile on Alfred's face didn't fade as a small flush of pink tinted his cheeks. The look made the blush on Ivan's face return full force. It appeared that had certainly backfired on the Russian. "Yeah, well, this is the first time in years I've met anyone as sweet as you. … And it's a bonus that you happen to be extraordinarily hot." Ivan was still as red as a beat when Alfred elbowed him playfully in the side, "Come on, big guy. I'm still waiting for that breakfast you promised."

Finally seeming to snap out of it, Ivan let his usual smile fall back on his face. He bent over and placed a kiss in the mess of wheat blond hair. "To tell you the truth, you are also the sweetest person I've seen in many years. It's nice to be around someone who hasn't become either emotionless or bloodthirsty. This city has really fallen over the years."

"Tell me about it," Alfred sighed. He pulled his keys from his pocket as they reached the car and unlocked the doors. "I've never seen so many murders before in my entire life. I swear, it's all I ever hear on the news now a days." He decided to leave out his opinions of the Russian mafia. Ivan really didn't need to be bothered with his obsession right now. "But yeah, let's get off this subject. I liked our earlier topic better."

Alfred began loading the bags into the back seat, as there was absolutely no room in the trunk. He yelped as a large pair of arms wound around his waist. "As did I.," Ivan purred behind him, "Perhaps we could have a little fun after I make you breakfast, what do you think? You do have the day off, da?"

The American shivered as Ivan trailed kisses along the back of his neck. He didn't care about the people staring along the sidewalk. If they had a problem then they could talk to the gun in the holster inside his jacket. "Y-Yeah, I do. Let's hurry up and get back to the apartment. I'm starving."

Ivan only laughed as Alfred practically began throwing the bags into his car.

oOxoxOo

Unfortunately, shortly after Ivan had fixed Alfred 'the most delicious thing he's eaten since he's gotten to this hamburger barren country', the Russian had received an urgent call from Toris. Normally, Ivan would have told the Lithuanian to handle the situation himself, especially when he already had Alfred out of everything except his boxers and half a hard-on to worry about. However, the man had been cut off before Ivan had had a chance to do so. All he'd heard before the line went dead were gunshots and shouts in Italian.

"What's wrong, Ivan?" Alfred asked, golden hair messy and glasses askew from their fervent make-out session moments ago. God, the sight of the man alone was nearly enough to make the Russian cum right there. Why couldn't Romulous have picked a better time to break into his home?

Ivan leaned down and pulled the younger man into a quick, passionate kiss. "I'm sorry, _lyubit_. There is very urgent business that I need to attend to. Before I go, might you please assist me? It would be nice if I didn't have to deal with this issue alone." The Russian gave an apologetic and sheepish smile, gesturing to his lower regions.

"O-Oh, yeah, of course," Alfred replied quickly. He had to deal with urgent calls often so he was no stranger to untimely interruptions, though that didn't make this any less disappointing.

Ivan groaned as Alfred lowered his mouth onto his arousal, feeling the man's tongue travel along the length and swirl over the head. The sight of the American sucking him off was arousing in and of itself. His teeth lightly grazed the sensitive skin, causing the Russian to buck his hips forward. Alfred gagged a bit as the man's enormous girth was shoved down his throat, pulling back before taking in the entire length. Ivan growled above him, the sound entwined with pleasured moans and sharp intakes of breath as he continued to buck his hips. Alfred let out a moan himself around the other man's length, the sensation enough to cause the Russian man to come. The blond lapped up the warm seed and pulled away, wiping the drool from his chin.

"Thank you," Ivan panted, "I'm sorry to just leave without returning the favor, but this really is very important." He pulled the younger into another short, yet heated kiss, tasting himself on the blond's tongue.

"Nah, it's okay, I totally understand." Alfred grinned as they pulled away, only serving to add to the Russian's guilt. "And don't worry, I can take care of myself." Ivan would definitely have to make it up to the younger man when he was done. Romulous was undeniably going to get the worst of the mafia head's rage; that much was certain.

Ivan pulled himself off the bed and began slipping back on his clothing. "I really do apologize. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Alfred chuckled a bit as he stood too, walking over to the flustered Russian and wrapping his arms around the man's waist like Ivan had done earlier. "Really, don't worry about it. I get calls like that all the time. But, I do intend to pick up where we left off." He picked up the light pink scarf hanging on the dresser mirror and handed it to the silverette.

Ivan smiled warmly and took the scarf, winding it around his neck. He pressed a quick kiss to Alfred's forehead and headed toward the door. "Oh, don't you worry about that. I intend to." He cast the most amazing smile Alfred had ever seen toward the younger before slipped out the door. Ivan made sure to get far enough away from the American's apartment before calling Gilbert. Even the German sounded ill at ease when he answered.

"_Boss, we're trying to hold them off, but they're being persistent," _the albino growled into the phone, the sound of gunshots echoing behind him.

Ivan looked around anxiously, waiting to hail a taxi. It was obvious both his drivers were too occupied to retrieve him at the moment. "Where's Feliciano?" he asked quickly.

There was more gunfire in the background, along with a string of German curses. _"He's with Ludwig. You think we should just hand the kid over? Both Romulous and Lovino are here, along with the rest of the Italian mafia."_

Finally Ivan was able to flag down a cab. "No, keep him," he replied curtly, "The fact that they're going through this much trouble means they're getting desperate. Little Feli is worth more to us now than he's ever been before. Wait for me to get there, until then keep Feliciano out of their hands." He didn't give Gilbert a chance to respond before flipping his phone closed. Romulous was getting frantic if he decided to risk himself and his men by showing up to Ivan's own home. The man definitely had balls, that much was obvious.

* * *

><p>Aw, again no smex, but now we have a bit of juicy action. Next chapter I intend to actually have our little Feli make an appearence, along with Grandpa and big brother. Also, Alfred gets another frustrating case involving the mafia, thus only deepening his hatred of them. Too bad Ivan has to be so goddamn hot! lol<p>

like always, **please review**. Those who shall will be bestowed the gift of the internets and thus become rulers of the world!


	4. Chapter 4

Hey there people of fanfiction! Though I'm slightly dissapointed in the number of reviews, I'm indebted to those who took the time to review. I really wanted to thank **RawrziesDeLoli, Rennasakura, Obsession and Insanity, Fai'swingedchronicles** for reviewing the first three chapters. You guys are awesome!

* * *

><p>"<em>Al, what the hell was that all about earlier?" <em>the quiet voice demanded.

Alfred ignored his twin's irritated tone, flipping through the channels looking for something that didn't have to do with death or murder. That really only left practically two channels out of the fifty-four. One thing he definitely missed about America, cable TV.

The thought of Matthew's reaction to what Ivan had said earlier put a comical image in the American's head. Mattie looked so cute when he was angry. That was mainly due to the fact that there was absolutely nothing intimidating about the man at all.

"Yeah, sorry about that, bro," The American chuckled. "I forgot to tell you, I met somebody the other day."

Alfred gave a little relieved sigh when his twin's tone seemed to simmer down. _"You mean like a __**guy **__somebody? Is that why he was in your bed at eight in the morning?"_

"Hey, how do you know he was in my bed?" the blond retorted with a pout he knew the other could see through his tone, "We coulda been hanging out in the living room or the bar or some shit. Why do you jump directly to the bed?" Alfred began fiddling with the silver chain around his neck, a nervous habit he'd developed. It wasn't that he was embarrassed, he just hated that his brother was so damn shrewd all the time.

Mattie gave a light giggle on the other end. _"Well, for one thing, when have you ever woken up by yourself before eight o' clock? Not only that, but you only whisper_ _right_ _when you wake up, if you have a hangover, if someone's in bed with you, or both. You can't lie to me, Al. I know you better than I know myself."_

"Yeah, you're defiantly right about that," Alfred grinned.

"_Well, you gonna tell me about this guy, or what?" _

The blond sprung up in his bed, legs crossed and looking as giddy as ever. He'd never felt so much like a little, giggling girl before in his entire life. It was humiliating; yet, he loved the feeling more than anything else.

Alfred proceeded to explain to his brother all about his Russian lover, from the moment they met all the way up until Ivan had been called away on business. He described the man in perfect detail to the point where Matthew could clearly see the silverette in his head.

"God, Mattie," the American swooned, "he's got to be the greatest guy in this entire country! He's sweet and charming and sexy. I don't know, but I think I feel a definite connection between us."

"Well, he does sound like a pretty great guy, maybe a little strange, though. I've never heard of someone dragging their boyfriend to go grocery shopping before; kind of a weird idea for a date. At least he sounds better than Francis."

"He's definitely better than Francis," Alfred chuckled. Just then the phone began to ring on the other line. "Hold on, Mattie, I got another call."

"_You'd better not be blowing me off to talk to your boyfriend again," _Matthew laughed.

The blond's eyes narrowed slightly when he recognized the number. This couldn't be good. "Sorry, it's a call from the station. I'll call you back tomorrow, Mattie, kay?" he sighed.

"Yeah, I understand. Go catch some bad guys."

Alfred offered his brother a sheepish 'thanks', and flashed the call over to the other line. It had to be important if Nikolai was calling him on his day off. "Hello?" he answered, realizing that he'd forgotten to switch back to Russian. It had been so nice speaking English that he almost forgot he was in a different country. "_Privyet,_" he corrected himself,"What is it, Nikolai? It's my day off."

"_I know, comrade," _the deep voice replied on the other end, _"But I figured you'd want in on this. We received an anonymous tip on the other side of town. You'll never guess what's happening."_

"Is it the mafia?" Alfred asked quickly, nearly yelling into the phone.

"Da, it appears the local Bratva are going all out against the Italians in the inner parts of the city. I believed this was your perfect opportunity to finally deal out some of that justice you're always going on about."

By this point, Alfred was already slipping on his boots and snatching his coat off the back of the sofa. "Tell me the address and I'll be right over."

"That's the problem, comrade. The caller didn't give an address. This fight could be going down in any part of inner Moscow. I'm sure we'll receive another call with an address eventually, why not wait until then?"

"No chance," the American grunted, practically slamming the door behind him. The frigid air hit him like brick wall, but he did his best to keep from shivering. "If we don't catch these guys now, we may never get another opportunity like this again. We need to find them now while all of this is still going on. I'll head into the city and call you if I find anything."

There was a heavy sigh on the other end, one that Alfred could clearly tell meant, 'you're going to get yourself shot in the head, you stupid American'. "Fine, I'll head that way myself and do the same. If you do happen to find them before I do, just don't get yourself killed, okay?"

"I'll do my best, but I can't guarantee it," Alfred grinned, snapping his phone closed. He revved the engine and tore off down the street. There was no way he was missing this.

oOxoxOo

Ivan growled as he cradled his bleeding arm, leaning around his hiding place –an overturned coffee table- and shooting at the first bits of movement that caught his eye. His chilly smile reappeared on his face when he managed to shoot a man in the kneecaps.

He'd been able to make his way inside the building, but he'd never expected to see so many of Romulous' men that had obviously been waiting for him. That bastard certainly was persistent. Normally Ivan found such an attribute commendable, but right now he simply found it irritating. He needed to get back to his office where Ludwig and Gilbert were holding little Feliciano. That was the only way this fight would come to a close without him having to lose any more of his men. Unfortunately, there was no way he'd be able to make it all the way through the elaborate maze that was his house without being ripped apart by bullets. There had to be something else he could do.

Thinking quickly, he pulled out his phone. "Ludwig, is the area still secured where you are?" he asked stiffly, pulling back behind the table as a bullet whizzed past his head.

"_Ja, they haven't made it this far yet,"_ the German replied.

"Good. Take Feliciano, Gilbert, Toris, Eduard, and Ravis, and get outside. Take them down to our warehouse and wait for my call. Don't let anyone see you."

"Yes, Mr. Braginski."

Ivan flipped his phone closed, ducking as another hail of bullets flew overhead. Hopefully the group would be able to make it out in time before Romulous arrived. The man was already further into the building than Ivan, leaving his grandson behind to keep the Russian at bay. The younger brunet had already made quick work of the Ivan's left arm, and judging by the look in his eyes, Ivan could tell the boy wouldn't stop firing until the silverette was six feet under.

He turned down toward his pistol, finding that he only had a few shots left. He'd have to glean some ammunition from one of his fallen comrades if he wanted to survive. Suddenly, Ivan's violet eyes widened as he heard a definitive click beside his head.

"There you are, you Russian bastard," Lovino growled above him, his chocolate eyes as hard as steel. The barrel of the gun was pointed inches from the Russian's head. "You'll pay for taking my brother away. It's time someone put a bullet through your head!"

Slowly, Ivan's lips quirked into a cold, amused smile. "Go ahead and try, comrade."

oOxoxOo

"Come on, Feli," the German growled, trying to pull the squirming Italian along behind him.

Feliciano shook his head fervidly, tugging against Ludwig's hold with all his strength. Tears were streaming from his amber eyes as he tried to free himself from his lover's grasp. "No! Ludwig," he begged, "this is my chance to go home! I don't want to be here anymore! Mr. Braginski is evil and cruel. I just want for you to come with me back to Grandpa's home in Italy, somewhere we can actually be happy together."

"Hurry up! What the Hell is taking you two so long?" Gilbert snarled, skidding to a halt as he turned back to the two. Toris was already assisting little Ravis out an open window and onto a lower rooftop while Eduard cradled his wounded shoulder.

Ludwig took hold of the brunet's shoulders, forcing their eyes to meet. "I know you want to leave, Feli, but you know we can't do that. If we did, Braginski would just hunt us down and kill us. I'll get you out of here someday, but right now the best thing for you to do is to stay here with me. Even if your Grandfather does get here, he'd just shoot my brother and I without a second thought. Now, we need to go, understand?"

Feliciano sniffled, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve as he nodded. The German pulled the little brunet into a quick hug, doing his best to keep the younger calm as well as himself, then hurriedly ushered him after the others out through the window.

oOxoxOo

Mentally cursing himself as he nearly took out an old lady and her dog, Alfred skidded his car around an icy street corner. He'd yet to see anything suspicious happening around the city, but that hadn't dampened his spirits.

On the street ahead, a black vehicle suddenly swerved onto the road, followed closely by another. This was definitely suspicious behavior, and it only further confirmed the fact when a man from the perusing vehicle leaned out from the passenger window and began shooting at the other car. Alfred didn't hesitate to give chase, staying close enough behind the second car to keep them in his sights, yet far enough away that his own car wouldn't be struck as people in the leading vehicle returned fire.

He followed to two groups as they weaved through the city streets. Finally, one of the pursuer's rounds struck the back tire, causing the other vehicle to swerve and crash into the side of a building. Immediately, four men poured from the car, looking a little beaten up as they began opening fire on the other group. Two were blonds, one a brunet and the last had white hair. Alfred skidded to a stop just before the pursuing car, keeping his gun close as he took shelter behind the corner of a nearby building. From there he watched as another group of men scrambled from their own vehicle, two of them struck dead before their boots could even make contact with the snow covered ground below them.

The two groups continued firing on one another, the group from the crash fairing much better than the others. After a moment, Alfred caught sight of more movement in the wrecked car. Two more men were doing their best to stay out of sight as they climbed out and took off down the street. Instead of waiting around for the others to kill one another, Alfred decided it best to go after the two fleeing the skirmish.

Alfred did his best to stay out of sight as he followed after them. He didn't want to let them know they were being followed. The blond inwardly smiled as the two rounded a corner into an empty alleyway, an alleyway that led straight towards a dead end.

"Alright, hold it right there!" Alfred ordered, aiming his gun at the two trapped men. They both wheeled back on him, each with eyes wide in terror. Now that he got a look at them, the American was shocked to find that both looked to be nothing more than mere boys. One was definitely very young. He had blond hair and looked no older than fourteen. The other was older, probably a young man around his late teens or early twenties. He was a light brunet with one curly hair that stuck out on the side of his head.

"Keep your hands where I can see them," the American said sternly, cautiously making his way closer.

"Please don't shoot us, officer," the older brunet suddenly exclaimed, dropping to his knees. Alfred was shocked at the obvious Italian accent that permeated his Russian. His amber eyes began to water as he started to cry. "We're just trying to get somewhere safe. The Russian mafia kidnapped us, and if we don't hurry, they'll find us and take us back. Please, you have to help us." The younger boy only looked back and forth between his friend and Alfred, not really knowing what to say.

Alfred didn't know whether the young man's story was true or not. His terror was undoubtedly earnest, but the only reason an Italian would be in Moscow was if he was a part of the mafia. Therefore, that gave him reason not to trust the brunet. However, if the Bratva really was pursuing him, it was Alfred's duty to keep the boy safe from harm.

"Alright," Alfred said slowly, "I can get you out of here. But first you need to stand up and put your hands against that wall, legs apart. It doesn't matter if you're in trouble or not, I'm not going to risk getting my head blown off." Both nodded willingly and did as they were told. The American gave them a quick frisking, finding two handguns and a knife on the Italian and a small pistol on the kid.

"We don't have any other weapons on us, I swear. Just get us away from here, please," the brunet begged. Alfred obliged, handcuffing the frightened boys for safety and leading them back to his car. By the time they returned to the scene, the police had arrived and were sealing off the area. The bodies of five of the pursuing men lay dead in the snow and slush. Alfred didn't see the bodies of either of the two blonds, the brunet or the white-haired man, and the other vehicle was gone.

"Alfred!" The American looked up to see Nikolai walking over, gray eyes narrowed curiously on his two captives. "What have you got there? Off catching children while a shooting was taking place in the middle of the street?"

"Hardly," Alfred snorted, "These two were in that wrecked vehicle over there. They say they were captives of the Russian mafia that had managed to escape. Both were armed, but they were willing to give up their weapons and be cuffed. I'm headed off to take them back to the station." Nikolai nodded, and Alfred continued to escort the boys to his car.

He sighed heavily as he shut the door behind them, running his fingers through his sweat-streaked hair. By the time he got the two to the station and returned, the fight would probably be long over. Well, perhaps things weren't a total loss. If the Bratva was after the little Italian that would probably mean that the boy was important. The longer they kept him at the station the more likely mafia, either Italian or Russian, was likely to show. Alfred would get his chance again, he was sure of it.

oOxoxOo

Ivan's stare was enough to freeze the souls of anyone unfortunate enough to fall under his icy glare. Unfortunately, those poor souls happened to be his two bodyguards and what remained of his three most trusted allies. The wounded men's eyes were trained downward in fear and shame, except for Toris who was busy tending to his boss' wounds. Ludwig looked especially defeated out of the group.

"Explain to me again," Ivan said slowly, his unrelenting stare boring down on the three, "how exactly you managed to lose them?" He ran his hand along the side of his pipe, the cold metal feeling wonderful in his hands.

The taller of the two blonds shifted his weight nervously, pressing his hand tighter against his bleeding shoulder. "Th-They m-must've run off somewhere while w-we were b-being shot at," Edward replied timidly, the sweat from his forehead causing the glasses to slip from his nose.

The Russian's eyes scanned over each face, eventually finding that none had purposefully allowed the boys to slip away. Ravis must have thought it would be safer to try and get Feliciano away from the fighting while the Italians were still occupied with the others. However, that just left the question of where the two had gone.

He leaned back in his office chair as Toris finished bandaging his arm and chest, grimacing faintly from the pain. "Take what's left of the men out and go look for them. We need to make sure we find them before Romulous does. I will not allow us to let such a lucrative opportunity get away from us." Though he would never let it known to the others, Ivan also worried for his little Ravis. The child was still far too young to handle himself on his own.

The group nodded and took their leave, Gilbert's arm slung over his brother's shoulder as the albino limped out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Ivan let his good arm rest on the desk top and began rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He was trying to provide some relief to the headache gnawing at his brain. Nearly half his men had been killed in the course of three hours, _and _he had lost his little Italian trump card. Not only that, but Lovino had nearly blown his head off. If it hadn't of been for a few reinforcements in the area, Ivan wouldn't be sitting at his desk nursing a piercing headache and two bullet wounds.

…

"_There you are, you Russian bastard," Lovino growled above him. He cocked the gun back, the barrel pointed inches from the Russian's head. "You'll pay for taking my brother away. It's time someone put a bullet through your head!"_

_Slowly, Ivan's features grew into a cold, amused smile. "Go ahead and try, comrade," he purred lowly._

_In the blink of an eye, Ivan kicked the gun from the brunet's hand. The action caused the weapon to go off, and an agonizing burning sensation blazed in the Russian's chest. Lovino staggered backwards from the shock, quickly regaining his composure as he drew a smaller pistol from a holster around his ankle. Ivan dove behind his bullet riddled sofa, removing a machine gun from one of his men's bloodied corpses. He stood, ignoring the searing pain flowing through his body, and fired. Two of the bullets pierced the mafia head's leg, leaving the boy reeling._

_Ivan ducked back down behind the couch as the rest of Lovino's men shot at him. He grimaced painfully, clutching the hole in his chest as blood bloomed over his tan coat. It felt like his lungs were being boiled. All of his men were either dead or too far away to be of any help. Even if he did manage to kill the rest of the Italians, he wouldn't be able to stop the bleeding in time to save himself. Well, if he was going to die, he was going to take as many of those bastards that he could with him._

_Ivan ejected the empty clip and loaded the gun with a new one. He grit his teeth, prepared to leap back into the fray, when all of a sudden his mind darted back to an image of Alfred. The man's eyes widened sharply and he felt his body become frozen in place. Slowly, Ivan lowered himself back down against the floor; clenching his fists so tightly the knuckles had become a snowy white. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to throw himself in harm's way. He'd been able to do it many times before without incident, being able to fling himself into certain death situations without incident. Now, however, he just couldn't stand the thought of possibly leaving his little American._

_He could feel the Italians closing in on him, but remained frozen in place. Just then, a hail of gunfire exploded behind him, accompanied closely by angry shouts in both Italian and Russian. Ivan gave a small sigh of relief, allowing the gun to fall to the floor beside him. He was saved._

…

Ivan delicately traced his hand over the bullet hole in his chest. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before. He had always been able to completely dismiss the thought of death during a fight. So what had happened to make him second-guess his actions?

The Russian sighed heavily and reached down into his desk for a bottle of vodka. Screw the warnings on the pain medication he'd taken, Ivan needed a drink, badly.

* * *

><p>Yay, another chapter completed! Oh noes, poor littel Ivan's been shot! And Feliciano's now under Alfred's care. Oooh, what's gonna happen? lol<p>

Since Feliciano seemed to be such an important aspect in Ivan's schemes, I wanted to give him a bigger part in the story. Matthew will probably also get a bigger part as well. I like the whole PrussiaxCanada pairing.

Anyway, please, everyone, **review**. I will love you SOOO MUCH if you do!


	5. Chapter 5

Hello everyone! I really wanted to give a VERY special thanks to ALL of my wonderful reviewers for this chapter: **RawrziesDeLoli, SugarSweetyChan, NightSongstress, With-All-Hearts, Rennasakura, and Fai'swingedchronicles**! I hope to hear more from my readers as this story continues, until then, please enjoy this chapter!

* * *

><p>The atmosphere in the station was chaotic to say the least; it always was this time of year. Phones rang without pause, papers lay strewn messily over any surface available, someone was always being brought through the doors in handcuffs. It was no wonder the Prosecutor had allowed Alfred to handle Feliciano and Ravis' case alone. There simply just wasn't enough manpower to focus attention on any one specific case.<p>

Alfred sighed heavily and took a large swig of his coffee. Sure, this is what he'd wanted, a solo case where he would be able to work close with the mafia. However, he was beginning to wonder if he was getting in a little too over his head.

"Officer Jones?"

The American looked up from his drink to find a pair of smiling amber eyes gazing into his own. Feliciano and Ravis stood a few feet away, obviously having been let out of the interrogation room. The younger still looked far too uncomfortable in his surroundings while his Italian friend had been nothing but smiles and constant motor mouth from the minute he'd arrived. Alfred was beginning to wonder how long the guy's attention span actually lasted. Nevertheless, Feliciano certainly was fun to have around, especially in such monotonous surroundings.

Alfred offered the two a grin and waved them over. "So, you guys ready to go?"

Ravis shifted his weight nervously, his eyes trained on the floor and his hand seeming to stay permanently fixed to the back of his head. Feliciano, on the other hand, began bouncing up and down in a decidedly unmanly fashion. "Yeah! I can't wait!" the brunet chirped, "Thank you so much for letting us stay over, officer!"

"Heh, yeah," Alfred chuckled, internally wondering if this was really the best idea. Well, it certainly may not have been the _worst _idea he'd ever had, but…that was still up for debate. "Alright," he sighed, "let's go."

Okay, so really, this wasn't a very good idea at all, but Alfred didn't have a choice. There was literally no more room at the station. It was filled to the brim with potential criminals from thieves to murderers. But, because of both Feliciano and Ravis' willingness to do whatever the police asked of them, the Prosecutor had made the decision –without bothering to consult Alfred- that both boys would be fine staying with the officer until room opened up, under house arrest, of course. What made this situation all the better was that this decision was finalized immediately after it was discovered that Feliciano was heir to the Italian mafia. The brunet was only too willing to share stories about his 'wonderful' grandfather, yet when probed for information about the Russians, he surprisingly had nothing to say. He gave no names, only telling them that he had a lover named Ludwig that was still being held against his will. Ravis remained equally as tight-lipped about the question, if not more so. Therefore, Alfred was stuck on babysitting duty, though to be honest, he really wasn't too bothered by it.

"Oh, Feliciano." The Italian gave a curious head tilt to the side as Alfred turned back with a grin. He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, "Call me Alfred. It feels a little weird being called 'Officer Jones'."

"Okay!" Feliciano smiled, giving the American an eager salute, "But if I get to call you Alfred, then you have to call me Feli!" Alfred replied with a chuckle and a nod, then led the two boys back to his car. This certainly was going to be interesting to say the least.

oOxoxOo

Ivan let out a soft groan as he shifted in his bed, trying not to aggravate his wounds too much as he did so. His body was painfully stiff and sore. He hated being shot; it was such a hassle recovering.

The Russian did his best to look up as a knock sounded at his door, quickly giving up on that and allowing his head to drop back onto the pillow. "Da, come in," he called, hoping it was some good news.

"U-um, b-boss?" Ivan let his eyes fall on the door instead of moving his head as Toris peaked into the room. The Lithuanian's emerald eyes were glued to the floor out of instinct, but a bright, timid smile graced his features. "Y-Your sister is here, a-and she's brought many of our men with her; t-twice the number of the ones we lost to Romulous."

An exuberant smile instantly lit up the Russian's face as he struggled to sit up against the headboard. Normally Ivan would have ordered his men to have the locks changed as soon as he heard his sister was visiting, but after suffering such heavy casualties, Ivan would happily kiss the psycho woman. "This is wonderful, Toris!" Ivan exclaimed happily, "Tell Natalia I wish to see her, there are things I need to discuss."

To say Toris looked surprised at the request would have been an understatement. However, the man nodded dutifully and left the room, returning moments later with a rather frantic looking Natalia.

"Brother!" the silver-haired woman called out, practically tackling her older brother in his bed. "Brother, what happened? I heard you were shot! Was it Yao? Was it Romulous? I swear I'll rip out both of their hearts for doing this to you!" Little did she know that she had begun strangling the man during her rant, shaking him roughly as she did so. By the time she looked up for a response, Ivan had already long since passed out. "Brother? Brother, say something damn it! Don't you ignore me!"

She growled as Toris hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder. "U-um, N-Natalia? I don't think he's going to answer you if you keep choking him like that."

Natalia blinked a bit, turning back to her brother as she released her hands from the man's throat. This was one of the many reasons Ivan never let his sister within fifty feet of his person at all times.

oOxoxOo

"Alright, here we are."

Alfred cast an amused glance at the little Italian as he marveled at his pitiful hovel; acting as though he'd just entered a four-star hotel. "Wow," he gasped, "This is amazing, Alfred! You have a really nice home!"

"Um, yeah," the American laughed quietly, setting his briefcase on the kitchen table. It was filled with stacks of paperwork that needed to be filled out by tomorrow morning. Alfred was _not _looking forward to that. "Definitly better than that refrigerator box I rented out when I first moved here. Surprisingly, this place is actually a lot cheaper, _and _it's got a working bathroom. That was a bonus."

"Sarcasm, funny," Feliciano beamed, wandering over and plopping onto the sofa, "Ludwig used to use sarcasm with me all the time! I still don't catch it a lot of the time, though, but at least he doesn't get angry at me anymore!"

Alfred shook his head when the man began bouncing in his seat like an excited little kid. His blue eyes cast over to the door, finding Ravis had yet to step through the threshold. The young boy looked very apprehensive. Alfred was starting to think it wasn't actually the heir to the Italian mafia he had to worry about.

"Hey, come on in," Alfred called, motioning for the boy to come inside. Ravis' dark blue eyes met his, and it was then Alfred could tell the boy was shaking. He really didn't want to be here. The American sauntered over, kneeling down beside the younger child so they were more at eye level, then cast him a warm smile. "Hey, don't worry. You're safe here. Come on, why don't you come inside and relax. I'll fix some dinner." Luckily, he and Ivan had bought at least twenty pounds of hamburger at the store. It was really the only thing Alfred knew how to cook.

Feliciano gasped as he leaped over the back of the couch, hopping up and down eagerly. "Can I cook, Alfred? I'm really good at cooking! And I wanted to thank you for helping us and letting us stay here! Can I cook, please?"

Usually, Alfred would never allow a convict to cook him food, far too paranoid about potentially being poisoned. However, Feliciano really didn't scream 'bloodthirsty murderer', and the man had been stripped of everything he'd had when he entered the station, given new clothes and shoes in case he'd hidden anything Alfred had missed. He couldn't possibly have any poison on him and Alfred didn't keep any cleaning supplies in his kitchen. Feliciano had his hands clasped in front of his chest, his head tilted to the side with an enthusiastic puppy dog look in his eyes.

Alfred sighed, and offered the brunet a tired smile. "Yeah, go ahead."

"YAY!" the Italian exclaimed, bounding off into the connected kitchen. At least he'd be able to keep an eye on him. Alfred led Ravis to sit on the couch, all the while watching as Feliciano began tearing through his cabinets, pulling out spices, sauces and three packages of pasta. Well, he guessed he was having pasta tonight.

oOxoxOo

When Ivan had regained consciousness, he immediately requested that Natalia take the furthest seat away from his bed as possible, also posting Ludwig and Eduard on either side of the woman to keep her in place. He really didn't want to risk getting mauled again.

"Natalia, I'm glad you brought in some more men to replace my fallen comrades," Ivan smiled, trying not to flinch each time his sister shifted in her chair. "but why exactly are you here?" The last time Natalia had contacted Ivan, it was to pay for a shipment of guns four months ago. That was really the extent of their communication.

"I heard that you'd been shot!" she replied quickly, "Why wouldn't I try to be there for my brother in his time of need, especially after your home was so decimated? I love you, brother!" Natalia practically lunged from her seat, only to be restrained by the two blonds beside her. She put up a fight, but quickly settled back down.

Ivan had unknowingly pressed himself firmly back against the headboard, causing a sharp pain to spike in his chest. He immediately relaxed, starting to regret letting his insane sibling into his bedroom. "That's great, sis," he laughed nervously, "Well, thank you. Your being here is no longer required. I'll be sure to send you a good sum of money for your-."

"I'm not leaving, brother."

Ivan stopped as he was cut off mid-sentence, casting his sister a curious, yet slightly terrified look. "Um, and why would this be?"

Natalia stood, determination radiating from her being. Ivan didn't like this, not one bit. "I could never leave you, brother! I will stay by your side until you are healed and until Romulous and his grandsons have been shot through the head!" Ludwig paled slightly at the declaration.

"Sis, I really don't think that's-."

"I will not take no for an answer!" she shouted, turning to march out the door, "You just relax, brother, and let me handle this! You're injuries shall be avenged, and afterward, we can get married!"

It was Ivan's turn to pale as his bedroom door was slammed roughly, causing the foundation to shake. Why was his family so weird?

"She certainly does have a lot of spirit," Eduard chuckled nervously. Ivan sighed and stood from his bed, causing both blond's to panic. "Boss, you really shouldn't be standing yet!"

"I refuse to stay here knowing my sister is in the same building as I am," he said. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to make a phone call." When neither made to leave, Ivan smiled frostily at the two, "That means leave. Now." Both men startled and hastily fled the room.

When the door slammed closed, Ivan pulled his cell phone from his pocket. It rang twice before someone picked up. _"Hello?"_

"How are you, Alfred?" Ivan instantly felt his heart swell with warmth at the sound of the other's voice.

"_Oh, hey! How did that 'urgent business' go?"_

"Not too well, I'm afraid. I was wondering perhaps, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, if perhaps I can stay a few nights at your place?" The idea of getting away from his sister was only slightly appealing compared to getting to sleep in the same bed as his sunflower.

oOxoxOo

Alfred shifted nervously at the question, glancing back to find Feliciano goading Ravis into taste testing his tomato sauce. The younger boy seemed to be calming down some.

"U-Uh," he stammered, "I kinda have a couple of 'guests' from work over. I-I'm not saying that you shouldn't come over! I'm just saying I don't really have anywhere else for you to sleep." It actually would be nice having Ivan over while the boys were here. It would certainly deter any thoughts of murder with the enormous, intimidating Russian there.

"_Well, I'm sure space wouldn't be much of an issue, as I intended us to sleep in the same bed." _Alfred instantly felt his face flush a dark red. _"That is, if that's alright with you, _lyubit_?"_

"Y-Yeah, that's fine," he couldn't help himself as he giggled. "How come you need a place to stay so badly?"

"_Um, I'm having a bit of work done on my house. There was an 'accident' of sorts and now many of the rooms in my home need to be refurbished." _At least that one wasn't a total lie. Bodies were still being removed from the building and blood and brain matter still coated every surface imaginable. It really was a wreck.

"Ah, I get it. Wish I had some cash to fix this place up, too-," Alfred's thoughts were cut off as a spoon was suddenly shoved in his mouth. He gagged a bit and pulled it out, instantly met with a wonderful taste of blended herbs and spices.

"How is it?" Feliciano asked, an expectant look in his eyes.

Alfred pondered the flavor for another moment before grinning. "It's great! You really are a good cook."

Feliciano smiled brightly, happily bounding back to the kitchen. Well, at least it wasn't poisoned. _"Alfred?"_

"Oh, sorry about that. Yeah, go ahead and come on over. The more the merrier!" he laughed. Ivan thanked him; telling him he was on his way, and Alfred flipped his phone closed.

"Who was that, Alfred?" Feliciano asked, busy stirring the sauce.

"Uh, a friend of mine," the American answered simply, "He's gonna stay here for a few days, too while he's having work done on his house." His eyes drifted down, finding a nice big sauce stain on his clothes. Oh well, might as well take a shower before Ivan gets there. He still reeked of sweat from the events of the day, as well. Not pleasant.

The smile on the Italian's face turned mischievous for a moment. "Is he your boyfriend?"

Alfred could feel his ears turning red, "Wh-what makes you say that?"

"The way you were talking to him, and that your face looks like a cherry right now," the brunet giggled. There was so much blood rushing to Alfred's face that he was certain he'd pass out. "You can't fool me," he sang, "I know love when I hear it. If he is your boyfriend, he must be a really great guy, huh?"

"Uh, yeah, he is," the blond smiled sheepishly, fiddling with the chain around his neck.

"Well, I can't wait to meet him! Any friend of Alfred's is a friend of mine!"

Alfred grinned, and began making his way back into the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a quick shower. I know I probably don't have anything to worry about but just remember, if you try to leave you'll trigger the alarms on those bands around your ankles."

Ravis nodded his understanding and Feliciano replied with a loud, 'Got it'. Alfred let a relaxed smile stretch across his lips as he closed the door behind him. This was going to be easier than he thought.

As soon as the water began running, a loud knock sounded at the door. "Ve~ That must be Alfred's boyfriend!" Feliciano chirped, bounding over to answer it. The instant the door opened, the Italian's eyes widened in horror. "AH! IVAN!" he cried, quickly cut off as a large hand was clasped over his mouth.

oOxoxOo

Ivan knocked on the apartment door, stepping back slightly as he adjusted his coat over the sling on his arm. The door opened and he looked down, violet eyes widening sharply when he came face to face with his runaway Italian.

The brunet instantly panicked, trying to scramble from the door as he cried out. This caused a mirrored burst of panic in Ivan who swiftly covered the boy's mouth in an effort to silence him. "Feliciano, if you scream again, I'll shoot you," he whispered harshly.

"Boss?" Ravis asked, more surprised than fearful, "What are you doing here?"

Ignoring the question, Ivan quickly whipped his head around the apartment. "Where is Alfred?" he asked quickly.

Feliciano squirmed out of his hold, gasping for air. "He's in the shower," he answered, voice shaky, "You're not going to hurt him, are you?"

"Nyet," the Russian sighed, slightly relieved that Alfred wasn't in the room, "but I may hurt you. Why are you here?"

"When we ran from the fight, Alfred picked us up," Ravis answered, "He took us down to the police station when Feliciano told him we were being chased by the Bratva."

Ivan nearly felt his heart stop beating in his chest. He harshly lifted the Italian off the ground by the front of his shirt, causing the brunet to yelp. "What did you tell him about me?" he snarled.

"N-N-Nothing, I d-didn't say a-anything about you. D-Does this mean Alfred's not a part of the Russian mafia?" Feliciano asked, fear fueled tears welling up in his eyes.

"No, he's not," Ivan said lowly, "He doesn't know anything of what I do, and I plan to keep it that way." He dropped the Italian on the floor, eyes cold as ice as he glared at the man. "If you tell him anything about me, I'll torture both you and Ludwig and make you watch as I kill the man. Only then will I put a bullet though your skull. Is that understood?"

Feliciano's slender form was trembling harshly from his seat on the ground. He nodded fervently, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I won't say anything, I promise."

"Good," Ivan sighed, yanking the young man to his feet by the back of his shirt.

So Alfred was a police officer, huh? Surprisingly, Ivan didn't really mind this. The police often held close ties with the mafia, but something about Alfred's personality told him that it would be the best if his actual identity were kept strictly secret from the younger.

Ravis hesitantly approached the Russian, eyes glued to the floor. "Does this mean you're taking us back, boss?"

"Don't call me boss," Ivan barked lowly, "While you're here, the both of you will call me Ivan. As far as you're concerned, you don't know me. And no, you'll be staying here as long as need be. From what Alfred knows, the Russian mafia is after you, da? If I took you with me, it would seem suspicious." Both Ravis and Feliciano nodded.

After a moment, the smile reappeared on the brunet's face. "Ve~ I'm glad Alfred's not a part of the mafia. I didn't want to have to be afraid of him. He's really nice."

"Da, he is, which is why he can't know who I am." Ivan gave a small sigh as he pushed past the two, and wandered over to the sofa. He plopped down, much too exhausted from the day's events.

He felt the spaces beside him become occupied, and looked up to find Feliciano sitting beside him, Ravis on the end. The brunet was still smiling at him. It was making the Russian feel a little awkward. It was odd how the boy could get over his death threats so quickly. "So I guess this means _you're_ Alfred's boyfriend?"

Ivan quickly turned away as a small bit of pink tinted his cheeks. "Is that what he told you?"

"No, that's what I got from your phone call," he chirped happily, his fear seeming to have simply melted away. "He really likes you, which means you must not really be as mean and scary as you seem. I knew you couldn't be that bad!"

"I can be nice if I feel the need to be," he muttered. Gradually, the eerie, childish smile spread back over his face, "But usually I just feel the need to torture people and listen to their terrified screams of agony." Feliciano immediately huddled beside Ravis on the far end of the sofa, both cowering in fear of the large Russian.

All three looked up as Alfred's door opened and the American walked out with a head of wet, blond hair. "Oh, hey Ivan," he greeted, a brilliant smile brightening his features, "Sorry, wasn't expecting you to get here so soon. I see you met Feli and Ravis."

"Da, we've become acquainted," the Russian replied, flashing a warm smile that neither Feliciano nor Ravis had ever thought the man possible of making.

Both boys stood. "I'd better set the table!" Feliciano chirped, bounding back into the kitchen.

"Hold on, I'll help you!" Ravis said quickly, bolting after the Italian.

Ivan stood as well, wincing slightly from the pain in his chest. Alfred's eyes widened sharply behind his glasses when he saw the man's pained expression, the sling on his arm only serving to nearly give the American a heart attack. "Shit, Ivan!" he exclaimed, running his injured lover, "What happened to you? Did you break your arm?"

The Russian was taken slightly aback by the younger's reaction. He'd never had anyone react to his injuries that way aside from his sisters. "Um, no, it's not broken," he replied hesitantly, trying to come up with an explanation for the bullet wounds that didn't involve the mafia. "I, uh, was mugged, o-on my way home. I didn't have much money on me at the time so the man simply put a bullet in my arm, and one in my chest." That probably wouldn't help ease his sunflower's tension, but at least it was believable.

"Oh my god," Alfred gasped, "Shouldn't you be in the hospital? Why are you even walking around? You should be resting in bed if anything!"

Ivan chuckled warmly at Alfred's response. He couldn't describe the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest to hear that the smaller man was honestly concerned for his well being. He bent down and pulled Alfred into a gentle kiss, ceasing the blond's rant. "I'm fine, lyubit; just a little sore. I figured if I came here, you would be able to kiss the pain away, da?"

A light blush dusted Alfred's cheeks. He pulled the older man into a hug, serving to startle Ivan once again. "I'm glad you're all right," he said softly. After a moment, Ivan wrapped his good arm around the other's waist as well, pulling him close.

"Aw, how cute!"

Both Alfred and Ivan jumped, turning back to find Feliciano and Ravis watching them from the kitchen. Feliciano looked more or less like he was watching a cheesy chick flick, whereas Ravis appeared utterly dumbstruck. They'd forgotten that Alfred's apartment really didn't provide much privacy. The two quickly pulled apart, equal amounts of red staining their faces and made their way to the table where Feliciano had laid out individual plates of pasta.

After dinner, Alfred and Ivan curled up in Alfred's bed, both content and happy to be close to one another again. "I'm not hurting your injuries, am I?" the American asked nervously.

"Not at all," Ivan replied, pulling the blond closer to his chest to prove his point, "I feel much better with you here."

"I hope you know that sounded really corny," Alfred giggled, turning over in the other man's arms to place a kiss on Ivan's lips, "But it was cute, I'll give you that."

"Da, just like you."

The American cast a cute little pouting glare at the silverette, "You think I'm corny?"

Ivan laughed, pulling the younger man back against his chest enough to rest his chin comfortably in the mess of wheat colored hair. "Sometimes," he chuckled softly, "but I was talking more about the fact that you're very cute, especially with that little pout on your face."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Alfred smiled, nuzzling his face into the crook of the Russian's neck, against the soft fabric of the pink scarf. He inhaled deeply, catching the distinct scent of snow and vodka. "I love you, Ivan," he breathed.

The Russian instantly felt his heart begin to pound against his ribcage. What had he said? "What did you say, _malyutka_?" he whispered. However, Alfred had fallen asleep, nestled perfectly against Ivan's chest.

* * *

><p>Another chapter! If anyone here thinks Feliciano can keep a secret, raise your hand! lol. Everyone staying in that tiny little apartment, drama is bound to happen! What I'm wondering is how Ivan's gonna be able to deal with not being able to smash someone's head in with his pipe for the next few days ^^<p>

anywho, to all of you readers, I love you! To all of my readers who **review **you have my undying love and admiration! Hope to update soon!


	6. Chapter 6

I'm so sorry I didn't update in my usual twenty four hours ;_; but hopefully the length of this chapter will be enough of an apology.

You can't even begin to imagine how ecstatic I am to see this massive list of reveiewers! I feel like singing to a group of random strangers that will probably just stare at me awkwardly while I look like an idiot. ^^ Anyway, I really wanted to thank ALL of my MARVELOUS reviewers of recent chapters: **Dackerie, I-AIN'T-GONNA-TELL-YOU-MY-NAME, kyothefallenkit, Trunksters, GaarasShinigami666, The Bullet Sponge, soggypotatoes, XxDamned ForeverXx, Mizuni-no-neko, NightSongstress, crownedclown3293, SugarSweetyChan, PaperSun, With-All-Hearts, ChainLincoln, Rennasakura, BackyardMilitia, and RawrziesDeLoli**

Well, here you all go! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>When Ivan awoke that morning, he was sore and stiff again. It was <em>not <em>a pleasant feeling. However, the warmth of the body beside him brought a smile to the Russian's face. He wound his good arm tighter around the smaller man's waist, kissing the top of his soft hair. Alfred simply shifted a bit, tucking his head snuggly beneath Ivan's chin before quickly falling back into a deep sleep. That obnoxious cowlick that stuck up near the front of the American's head tickled Ivan's nose, nearly making him sneeze. He blew on offending hair out of his face, only to have it sway slightly and spring right back into place. As he did so, his lover squirmed beneath him, giving a light moan. It didn't seem to hold the exhaustion of sleep, the silverette noticed, but rather held quite a bit of pleasure to it.

Now that certainly was odd. Ivan blew on it again, getting the same effects as earlier, only a little louder this time. This sparked an idea in the Russian. It was a little farfetched, but he figured he was feeling rather curious. Slowly, he lifted his arm and began tracing his finger along the annoying cowlick. This resulted in a string of gentle moans as the body writhed beneath him. Somehow, this one hair seemed to spark a heat of subconscious passion in his lover. A wide, mischievous smile spread across the Russian's face. Oh, this was definitely going to prove entertaining.

Apparently, the sensations were enough to wake the younger. Alfred's eyelids fluttered as he yawned widely. "Man, that was an awesome dream," he muttered sleepily, snuggling back against the Russian.

"How come you've never told me of this before?" Ivan smiled, running his finger along the strange strand of hair.

Alfred shivered beneath him, his face turning bright red. That hadn't been a dream. "U-Uh, I don't…know w-what you're talking about," he said sheepishly before stifling another groan as Ivan continued his hair molestation.

Ivan smirked devilishly; tugging on the hair a bit and earning him a loud keen from the other. "Oh, so in all your life you've never discovered that this little hair here causes you pleasure?"

"N-No, it's not that…I just don't really like that part of me, i-it's weird." The American bit his lip harshly.

"_Nyet_, it is adorable, _malyutka_," Ivan smiled, "Sure, it is a little strange, but this only means I can provide you with even more delight."

Alfred continued to whimper under the other man's delicate touch. He'd always hated that hair. Just then, the cell phone on the nightstand began to ring, bringing a relieved smile to the blond's face.

Ivan pouted sharply. He hated being interrupted. Before Alfred could recover the use of his limbs, the Russian snatched the phone off the small surface. "You have impeccable timing, little _Matvey_," he greeted quickly, a hint of annoyance in his tone, "your brother was just about to let me do his hair for him."

There was a small pause on the other end and confused stammering could be heard clearly in the background. Alfred was still trying to wriggle free out from beneath the larger man, not having much success. When the person on the other end finally responded, Ivan was a bit shocked at the change in Matthew's voice…and accent.

"_Excuse me? Who the bloody hell am I speaking to? Where's Alfred?" _the irritated voice asked.

"This is Ivan," the Russian replied cheerily, "Alfred is currently indisposed at the moment. Now may I ask who _I'm _speaking to?" He giggled as a growl was uttered from underneath him.

"This is Arthur, Alfred's brother. Where is the git? Shouldn't it still be eight in the morning over there? … … Oh, oh God…Are you?…Is he?…Were you two?…Oh God!"

"Gimme that!" Alfred pouted, seizing the phone from the other man, "You're gonna scar Iggy for life." The American watched as Ivan only laughed, smirking a bit himself. Well, he couldn't argue with the fact that Arthur was pretty fun to mess with. "Hey, Artie. Sorry 'bout that."

"_Sorry?" _the Englishman huffed, _"What exactly is it you two were doing when I called? … Actually, don't tell me, I don't want to know."_

"Aw, come on, Artie. Don't be like that." Alfred turned a half-hearted glare up at the still snickering Russian, covering the phone with his hand. "I hope you're happy. Now Iggy thinks I'm some sort of sex-crazed pervert. He's never gonna let me hear the end of this!"

Ivan placed his large hand on the blond's head and mussed his hair –careful not to accidentally touch the cowlick. That could wait until later-. "I don't think you're older brother would change his image of you so easily, _dorogoy_," he laughed, "You are defiantly not a 'sex-crazed pervert'." He bent over and placed a kiss on Alfred's forehead.

"_And here I thought I wouldn't have to worry about you or Matthew becoming like Francis," _he heard the man sigh on the other end.

A light smile graced the American's face. "Artie, I'm not turning into Francis, you have my word. Ivan just likes to mess with people, is all."

"Well…I guess I am glad to hear you're still not alone, at least. I was worried about that every since you first decided to move to Russia."

"Aw, come on. I'm not _that _undesirable," Alfred pouted, tracing designs in Ivan's chiseled abdomen. Man, this guy had _way _more muscle than Alfred would ever hope to have, even with all his years running around and chasing criminals. He was slightly ashamed to admit it but…he was a little jealous of the other man. "I like to think I'm at least a little easy on the eyes."

Alfred could feel Ivan's lips quirk up in a smile against his forehead. "Da, you are definitely easy on the eyes, _lyubit_," he breathed, the sound sending shivers down the American's spine.

"_I wasn't implying that, you twit," _Arthur continued, _"Why is it that you've called Matthew every single morning, and yet I haven't heard from you in days? Honestly, I thought you would at least have the decency to call your older brother from time to time." _Though it was mostly just teasing, there was still a tiny bit of hurt written in his tone.

"Artie, you know I don't mean anything by that. Hey, I asked if you were with Mattie a couple days ago, and he said you weren't there."

"I do have to go to work, Al. I'm usually already gone by the time you and Matthew talk."

"See, how come _you _don't call _me_?" Alfred grinned, "If you're the one with the weird schedule, how am I supposed to know when to call you?" He enjoyed turning things around on his brother. It usually resulted in a flustered, stammering Brit.

"_W-Well, I…You…Oh, shut up, you bloody git!" _The American couldn't help but burst out into muffled laughter. The walls weren't exactly thick and he didn't want to wake any of his still sleeping guests. _"Fine, I'll just have to get you up at six in the morning to talk."_

This immediately halted the other's laughter. "What? No, you can't mean that, Iggy. I can't get up at _six_, that's like, insane!" If there was anything Alfred loved as much as his brothers and food, it was sleep. There wouldn't be any way he could survive getting up two hours earlier than usual. "Alright, alright, I'll give ya a call whenever I get a break from police work, happy?"

There was a rather victorious and slightly evil chuckle on the other end. _"Yes, I am. It's nice being able to speak with you since I'm not able to see your irksome face every day."_

"Yeah, yeah," Alfred laughed. The two continued their chat like that for a few minutes while Ivan kept himself amused fiddling with the blond's cowlick again. It certainly made for interesting conversation, that was for sure. By the time Arthur hung up –obviously a little miffed-, Alfred's face was bright red. "Y-You're horrible," he whimpered, nuzzling against the other man's touch, "Iggy's all pissed off at me now."

"I apologize, _malyutka_, but I was getting bored," he giggled, "I simply wanted to find something to keep myself entertained, da?" Ivan smiled down at the blushing blond, continuing to pet his head like a dog. He made sure to give an extra little tug against that cowlick each time his hand went over. It was turning Alfred to jelly in his arms.

"Shiiiit," the blond groaned. He hated it when people used 'Nantucket' against him; it just wasn't fair. That damned hair was more trouble than it was worth. "St-stop…No…N-No more. S'not fair." Damn, Feliciano and Ravis were sleeping in the living room and the walls to his apartment were paper-thin. He couldn't let those two boys hear him like this. He wriggled in the other's hold, trying to escape. "F-Feli 'nd Ra-Ravis'll hear us."

Ivan only smirked, deciding to be merciful –for the moment- and released the hair, letting his hand travel along the American's silky smooth torso and down to his hips. Instead, he began focusing his attention on slipping his hand into the younger man's boxers, gripping his already dripping length and giving it a firm jerk. The action earned him a small yelp from the blond.

"I do not think they will care too much, _dorogoy_," he purred, feeling Alfred shiver pleasurably beneath him. He knew neither of the boys would care. Both had heard him fuck before –though it was mostly for torture purposes- and if they didn't want to have broken legs, they wouldn't give a damn about him fucking Alfred.

"B-B-But, th-they're just k-kids," Alfred squeaked, writhing in the Russian's firm hold.

"Feliciano has a lover, da?" Ivan countered, stroking the other man's member in harsh, rhythmic movements. Each jerk caused his little love to release a medley of mewls and gasps. The sounds were music to the silverette's ears. "I told you I intended to make it up to you for leaving the other day. I promise, this time will be even better than the first." Their first time, Alfred had been so wasted that Ivan was certain the other man probably didn't have any recollection of the event. There were also parts of the night that were just completely lost to the wind for Ivan as well. This time, he intended to make his little American sunflower remember every second.

"Ah-h…ngh." Alfred's face was flushed a deep red. He couldn't barely form a single word let alone continue to argue with the other man.

Ivan grinned, ceasing his fondling for a moment and leaving the blond painfully hard. Alfred whined at the lost friction, nuzzling his head under the Russian's chin to try and get some of that pleasure back through his cowlick. "You're going to have to get on your knees, _lyubit_," Ivan said softly, placing kisses in the mess of wheat hair, "I can't support myself and pleasure you at the same time." Alfred only gave a grunt in response, doing as he was told. The Russian climbed on top of him, allowing Alfred to support his large frame as he continued his ministrations.

Ivan didn't really enjoy fucking like an animal, as he preferred to see his love's face to watch the heavenly expressions that followed his various grunts and groans. Though with one arm in a sling, he couldn't support himself _and _pleasure his little sunflower at the same time. Alfred didn't seem to mind letting the Russian lean on him, still letting out a plethora of wanton moans and mewls as Ivan continued to stroke his rock hard cock. To add to the younger's troubles; Ivan couldn't resist blowing a little on his new toy, the cowlick swaying a bit and causing the blond to release a throaty moan.

Figuring he'd tortured the smaller man enough, Ivan increased his pace. He giggled when Alfred bit down on his pillow to keep from crying out and waking his other two guests. Still, even through the fabric and feathers, the silverette could distinctly hear what sounded like, "Oh God. Oh…oh fuck. Ivan." Finally, with a muffled scream, Ivan found his hand coated with the younger's warm seed. He brought his hand to his face, lapping up the sticky mess. His sunflower had a sort of sweet tang flavor to him. It was delicious.

"You're…you're h-horrible," the American panted, resting on his elbows while his forehead sat on the mattress. "No one's allowed to mess with Nantucket. It's just…it's just not fair." He tried his best to growl at the other man, instead the sound manifesting itself as a tired sigh.

"Nantucket? Ah, so you have a name for this little hair of yours," Ivan giggled mischievously as he began stroking the hair once again. Alfred groaned loudly, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth after doing so. Ivan bent down, cool torso flush against the other's fiery back, and ran his tongue along the edge of Alfred's ear. "Don't collapse on me just yet, _lyubit_. That was just the foreplay."

The blond only gave a soft moan in response, willingly allowing the older man to stick his fingers into his mouth. He lapped at them willingly, coating the broad digits in a thick coat of saliva. As soon as his fingers were sufficiently slick, Ivan pulled them from the American's mouth and began worming the two of them inside the other's firm ass. Alfred gave a sharp cry, obviously in a good deal of discomfort. Ivan tried to distract his love from the temporary pain as he trailed kisses along Alfred's neck and back, occasionally allowing his teeth to lightly graze the skin. He blew on the cowlick, and ran his tongue along the soft hair. If he'd had both his hands, he would have been able to provide a great deal more distraction, but unfortunately he did not.

"_Ya Izvinyeniya_," he breathed against the younger's neck, working and stretching his sunflower's tight entrance.

Alfred grit his teeth a bit, but managed an equally breathy, "It's okay. … F-Fuck, Ivan."

"Call me, Vanya," he whispered, kissing the back of Alfred's neck. "It's a name only my sisters are allowed to call me by. I would like for you to use it as well." Feeling that his love wasn't stretched enough, Ivan slid a third finger in, making Alfred's back arch sharply.

"A-ahhh, shit, Vanya," the blond keened, the sheets of his bed caught in a death grip in his hands. Ivan smiled brightly at hearing his nickname being sang in that sumptuous, melodious voice.

"_Spasiba, Fredka_."

"Y-You're…welcome … n-ngh."

Ivan slid his fingers from the blond as delicately as possible, not used to being so gentle with his lovers. Normally he would be out for as much of his victim's pain as possible. It was a strange feeling purposefully _not_ trying to harm the person he's fucking.

He positioned his throbbing cock in front of Alfred's entrance, then gradually pushed in until he was fully sheathed inside the slick, hot cavern. By this point, the American had literally ripped holes in the sheet with how hard he was gripping it. Ivan was much bigger than he'd been prepared for. While the Russian waited for his sunflower to adjust, he began abusing the other's prized 'Nantucket' between his fingers, releasing another full-blown stream of joyous moans. He was supposed to be making this as pleasurable as possible for his love, after all.

"Tell me when I can move, _lyubit_." His husky voiced caused the body beneath him to shudder, goose bumps marring his tanned skin.

"N-nnghhh…mm, o-okay," Alfred squeaked.

Slowly, Ivan began grinding his hips against the blond's. He gradually picked up speed until he finally struck that one sweet spot deep within his lover, earning him a muffled cry of pure pleasure. Oh how Ivan wanted to see the look on his precious sunflower's face as he fucked him into a state of ecstasy.

"Hold on," he said quickly, pulling out of the younger man. Alfred instantly complained about the loss of the 'full' sensation, giving the other a pitiful whimper. Ivan maneuvered both of their bodies until Alfred was straddled over Ivan's cock as the Russian laid himself back in the bed. A large, contented smirk was set firmly on the silverette's face. "Ride me, _malyutka_," he instructed. Sure, he wanted to be the one to give the other pleasure, but at this point in time, that wasn't going to happen. The exertion he had given had already worn him out considerably with his injuries. The next best thing was to let the other man just do whatever he wanted.

Alfred eagerly lowered himself onto Ivan's pulsating dick, impatient to feel that sense of 'completeness' once again. Ivan let his hand trail along the blond's back, letting it rest on the man's taut ass. The look on his sunflower's face was priceless. His cheeks were flushed a light pink, golden hair mussed and disheveled. Without his glasses, his bright blue eyes shone in the dim light of the room. It had to be the most beautiful thing Ivan had ever seen.

Alfred immediately set about picking up the pace, throwing his head back as he struck his sweet spot again and again. Ivan bucked his hips upward in time with Alfred's thrusts, earning him a symphony of joyous cries. The American was forced to bite down on his own wrist to keep from waking up the others, though he'd be lucky if the two hadn't been woken up already.

"F-F-Fuck…Van-ya…I c-can't…I'm gonna…" Before he could finish his sentence, Ivan took the blond by the arm and dragged him down into a kiss. The silverette eagerly devoured the other man, feeling him cry out in glorious climax. The sudden tightness caused Ivan to come as well. Alfred collapsed heavily atop the Russian, both exhausted and spent.

Ivan tilted the American's head back up, capturing his lips once again in a chaste kiss. They pulled away, just enough so that the tips of their noses barely touched. "You truly are beautiful, Alfred," the silverette whispered, "I want to keep you all to myself. I don't want any other's eyes to behold his sight other than mine."

Alfred giggled a bit, obviously still a little giddy. "That's a little selfish, don'cha think?" He let his head fall against the crook of the other man's neck. Only now did he notice the multitude of scars covering the delicate flesh. Many were light, almost non-existent, while a few were still in the process of fading. He lifted his hand, tracing his fingers along the soft skin. "What happened here?" he asked softly.

"It's nothing," Ivan shrugged, "Just a few old scars from my past. I prefer not to think of them."

The blond looked up at the other curiously, still hazed from the effects of sex. "S'that why you always wear that scarf?"

Ivan smiled and placed a kiss on Alfred's forehead. "Nyet, my sister made me that scarf when we were children. I guess it also helps to hide my scars, but that's simply just a bonus." His silver eyebrows knit together slightly and he fidgeted beneath his lover.

It took a moment for Alfred to realize what was going on, but once he did, the American was quick to put distance between himself and the older man. "Oh my God, I am so sorry. I was laying on your chest and your arm, 'nd…God, I'm such an idiot! You need some Advil or something? I could get you some water, or-."

"Alfred," the Russian said sternly, only to start laughing seconds later. "You are so adorable." Alfred's cheeks instantly flushed a light pink, making him look that much cuter. "Don't worry, you weren't causing me any pain. However, I am a little sore. Perhaps some Advil and water would be good, da?"

Alfred blinked a bit, but eventually cast the other a sheepish smile. "Okay."

oOxoxOo

Alfred's cheeks were practically on fire as he peaked his head out of his bedroom. He just needed to grab a glass from the kitchen without being spotted and-

"Buongiorno, Alfred!"

Damn it all.

Alfred cast a shaky grin at the Italian, who was currently beaming at him from his stove. Whatever he was cooking smelt absolutely delicious. It made the officer's mouth water. "Uh, morning…Feli," he replied, looking back to find that Ravis was still asleep on the sofa. Good, maybe at least one out of the two hadn't heard him. Seeing as there was no use trying to be sneaky anymore, Alfred sighed as he strode into the kitchen, carding his fingers through his disheveled hair. He passed the brunet, opening the cabinet where he kept his glasses, "So what're you makin'?"

"I'm making pizza!" Feli chirped.

Alfred chuckled, filling up the glass with some cold water from the sink. "Don't you think it's a little too early for pizza?"

The Italian bounced over to where Alfred was standing, taking a seat up on the edge of the counter. He swung his legs back and forth with that same unnatural dazzling smile stuck on his face. "It's never too early for pizza!" he laughed, as if it were a well-known fact, "You and Mr. Ivan sure sounded like you were having fun. You make a lot of cute noises when you're having sex."

It was impossible to explain how Alfred had managed to maintain consciousness with how much blood rushed to his face so quickly. He accidentally dropped the glass in the sink, causing it to shatter on the metal surface. Alfred yelped as one of the shards embedded itself in his hand, jerking back more from shock than pain. "Shit," he growled, examining the surprisingly large chunk of glass sticking out of his palm and part of his wrist.

"Oh no, Alfred! Are you okay?" the Italian panicked, leaping to his feet, "Do you need to go to the hospital? Do I have to call an ambulance? Wow, it's really bleeding a lot. Tha's a… lotta-." Alfred sighed as Feliciano passed out on his kitchen floor. Apparently the man really didn't like the sight of blood. Wasn't it like a requirement for mob bosses to be exposed to gallons of the stuff on a daily basis?

Regardless, Alfred didn't have time to ponder the question. Feliciano was right in the fact that the injury was bleeding quite badly. He should probably get something to clean it and tie it off.

"Ah! What's going on? What's with all the yelling?" Alfred glanced up as Ravis shot up in his bed on the couch, eyes wide in fear.

To make matters worse, the door to his bedroom slammed open. The force nearly ripped the damn thing off its hinges as a frantic Ivan appeared in the doorway. "Alfred! What happened?" The man literally sprinted over to where the blond stood, nearly crushing poor Feliciano from his spot on the floor. He took Alfred's hand, a bit too roughly which caused the younger to give a sharp hiss of pain, and examined it. "Sorry," Ivan apologized, "This is bleeding badly. I believe you may have severed an artery."

"Nah, don't worry about it," Alfred chuckled nervously, feeling slightly dizzy as he did so, "It's not that bad. Probly just needs a big band-aid 'er something."

Ravis had run over to see what all the commotion was about, slightly surprised at the amount of blood. He'd seen critical injuries before, but the amount of blood was still shocking. "That looks really bad," he said worriedly, looking up at the police officer, "You should probably go to a hospital, Alfred."

Ivan nodded firmly, "Da, Ravis is right. This is not something that can be treated effectively in your home. We can clean the wound, but you'll still need to go to the hospital to get the glass removed and proper stitching." Alfred continued to protest as the Russian led him into his bathroom, the silverette instructing Ravis to clean the remainder of the glass and call an ambulance –in the least threatening way possible-.

Alfred staggered as he was sat on the edge of the tub, feeling much more light headed than he had two minutes ago. "Really, I'm fine, _Vanya_. I don't need to go to the hospital."

"Don't argue, _lyubit_," Ivan stated, too focused on cleaning the wound to be anything other than serious, "I have seen many serious injuries in my time. This one is not _that _bad, but it can certainly be fatal if we don't stop the bleeding." He pulled a large bottle of rubbing alcohol and a bag of cotton balls from under the sink, then pulled Alfred's hand over the bathtub as he made sure to keep it elevated. "This is going to sting." True to his word, Alfred barely had time to stifle his yell as the cotton was pressed onto the laceration, biting down harshly on his lower lip.

"Ah, shit," the blond gasped, "That fucking hurt."

"Da, it's going to hurt much worse when they pull the glass out," Ivan smirked a little, "How exactly did you manage to cut yourself, anyway? He made sure to keep his hand pressed firmly to the injury, trying to stop the blood flow as best as possible without embedding the glass any deeper.

"U-Uh," Alfred stammered, his paling cheeks becoming a tad rosy. If his face had normal blood flow, it would probably be a giant strawberry right about now. "Um, I was…startled, by something Feli said. The glass slipped, it was my fault for being a clutz."

"Hm, I see." Perhaps he'd have to punish the little Italian later for causing his sunflower to become injured.

Alfred grinned up at the other man, chuckling a bit. "Ya know, I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around. You _are_ the one with the bullet wounds, after all." He shifted a bit, still sore ass very uncomfortable sitting on the hard surface.

The Russian gave a small sigh, and placed a soft kiss on Alfred's forehead. "This is true, but my injuries aren't currently causing me to bleed to death, _dorogoy_. I don't believe I will be able to ride with you to the hospital, as we seem to have abandoned little Feliciano on the kitchen floor and I don't think Ravis can handle the boy on his own."

"Oh yeah," the blond replied, a bit too distant sounding than Ivan would care to hear, "Well, you'd think he would at least be able to get him off the floor. … Why do I need an ambulance, anyway? Can't one of us just drive to the hospital?" He stuck out his lower lip a bit. An ambulance seemed a little too extreme.

"Nyet. I am incapacitated at the moment, and I don't think it would be the best to let you drive yourself with a piece of glass sticking out of your hand." Normally, Ivan could simply have Ludwig or Gilbert drive, but that didn't exactly seem like the greatest idea either.

After a few minutes, the ambulance arrived and carted the unwilling, and extremely dizzy Alfred off to the hospital, much to Ivan's relief and irritation. Really, he wasn't concerned about Feliciano. The boy did have the tendency to pass out at the sight of blood. He simply wanted to use this opportunity to clear some things up with the rest of his men so he wouldn't receive any unwanted interruptions later on during his stay.

He held the phone to his ear, waiting for the other to answer. "Toris, where are you?" The Russian asked bluntly, eyes straying over to where Ravis was trying to coax Feliciano into waking up. They'd moved the unconscious brunet to the sofa where the little blond was currently fanning him with a Sport's Illustrated they'd found lying around. Ivan inwardly wondered how much trouble Alfred had gone through to get that magazine delivered to him from across the ocean.

"_I'm in your office taking care of shipment details like you asked. Why?"_

"Is Natalia in the room?"

"W-Well… no-."

"Is she still in my house?"

"_She's off looking for Romulous right now. D- Do you need to speak with her?"_

Ivan let a rather cheerful little smile fall on his face, "Nyet, I just wanted to make sure she wasn't destroying my home, or touching my stuff. Keep her out of my office and out of my bedroom. I don't care how many men you have to post in front of the doors to make it so."

"Natalia's home?" Ravis looked up fearfully. Ivan gave the boy a dismal nod. It appeared that everyone unfortunate enough to encounter Natalia was instantly scarred for life.

"_I can take care of that. Is there anything else you need?"_

"Uuumm, oh yeah, I almost forgot," Ivan giggled, the sound making Ravis tremble slightly, "I've located our two little runaways, so you can call off the search party."

"_My God, really?" _the Lithuanian gasped, _"Are they all right?"_

"Da, I do believe they are unharmed."

He heard Toris give a small laugh, obviously relieved. The reaction was expected. Toris had always been protective of his brothers, caring for them in an almost motherly way. _"I'm glad. Will you need Gilbert or Ludwig to retrieve the three of you?"_

"Nyet, I don't intend to return home any time soon, not with my crazed sister there." Ivan felt a disturbing shiver run down his spine, as if mentioning the woman would cause her to appear behind him.

"_Oh yes, I'd nearly forgotten_." Ivan pouted inwardly at the sound of the other's amused tone. _"Well, inform me when you're ready to return home."_

"And Toris, do not let Natalia know that I've located Feliciano. The last thing I need is an assassination attempt on the child right after we finally have him back."

"Of course."

Ivan snapped his phone closed, glancing up as the brunet finally decided to return to the world of the living. He stood shakily from the couch, hand cradling his head. "Ve~…What happened? Oh! Alfred! Is he okay? That was a lot of blood, I don't think I've ever seen so much-."

Ravis quickly offered the Italian some support as he started to sway again. Even the memory of blood was enough to make the man light-headed. "If you pass out again, I'm not going to pick you up off the floor this time," Ivan stated simply.

Feliciano seemed to right himself, casting a bright smile at the Russian. "Oh, Mr. Ivan! There you are! Is Alfred okay?"

"Da, he'll be fine." Ivan leaned back against the chair, an almost invisible pout on his face. Alfred was going to be fine. Something as trivial as a piece of glass wasn't enough to kill his sunflower.

"Yeah, the ambulance arrived and took him to the hospital," Ravis added, casting the Italian a reassuring smile.

Feliciano gave a content sigh, "Ve~ That's good. I was worried."

There was an awkward pause amidst the three, each shifting uncomfortably where they sat or stood. It wasn't normal for all of them to be in such close proximity to one another without it being torture related or business related. Normally, Alfred would be there to break the tension, but without him, the air was filled with gauche silence. Giving up on hopes of having a normal conversation, the three opted on turning on the television instead.

After a moment, Feliciano leapt up from the couch as if a snake had just crawled up his shirt, bolting into the kitchen. "AH! I forgot about the pizza!"

One big happy family, indeed.

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><p>Well, there's your smexiness. Sorry the ending to the chapter seemed a little odd. I didn't want to just keep going, but at the same time I did. My aunt actually had the same thing happen to her that happened to Alfred, except it was a pickle jar that exploded on the floor. Had to go to the hospital and everything, the scar was gnarly. who knew Feliciano fainted at the sight of blood? Well, I can totally see him doing that, lol.<p>

Anyway, I hope you all continue to read and **review**, and I promise I'll update much faster this time ^^


	7. Chapter 7

Hello my brilliant readers! I'd like to give an extra special thanks to everyone who reviewed my last chapter: **kingdomheartslover13, RawrziesDeLoli, With-All-Hearts, crownedclown3293, Dackerie, soggypotatoes, NightSongstress, SugarSweetyChan, Scheska, Trunksters, hetalian, and SoulBreak**

I really hope all of you enjoy this chapter!

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><p>"Um, M-Mr. Ivan?" The Russian turned back to see Feliciano shifting nervously behind him, head hung against his chest in submission. Ivan gave a small smirk at how well trained his little Italian was.<p>

"What do you want, Feliciano?" he asked brusquely.

The brunet shifted his weight from one foot to the other, running his hand over the back of his head. "U-Um, could…c-could I call Ludwig?" Ivan's violet eyes narrowed suspiciously, now turning his full attention to the younger. Feliciano immediately bristled at the harsh stare now crushing his very soul. "U-Uh, I mean…wh-what I meant to say was…Y-You and Alfred l-look so happy together, a-and I…"

Ivan heaved a sigh and handed the brunet his phone before he was forced to be exposed to even more of the man's unintelligible stuttering. "You have three minutes. I intend to speak with him when you're done," he said simply. Well, he was going to call the man anyway. He needed a ride to the hospital to get Alfred.

At this, Feliciano's face instantly lit up in a brilliant smile. The Russian could practically feel the happiness radiating from him. "Thank you so much! You're so much nicer when you don't have to be a big scary mob boss!"

"Oh, Feliciano," Ivan shook his head in disappointment, the chilly childish smile reappearing on his face, accompanied closely by a distinct aura of death, "I don't think you quite understand. I'm _always _a mob boss, even when I'm not working." The bright smile flashed instantly to a look of complete and utter terror before the little Italian fled to the safety of the sofa. Good, that was the reaction Ivan was hoping for. Pleased with himself, Ivan returned to Alfred's room. He'd forgotten to put on his shirt again.

oOxoxOo

Gilbert could feel himself starting to lose his mind. Not only had he spent the last two days alone, bored and with absolutely nothing better to do than sit on his ass and watch crappy Russian TV, but his brother, the only person he could rely on to be all for getting wasted and going out partying, had been too busy sulking in his room to hang out. Ludwig wasn't one to go off and cry in his little emo corner; oh no, _his _version of 'sulking' was to spend hours upon hours making everything as spotless humanly possible. The last time the albino was fortunate enough to be allowed in his brother's room he could literally see his reflection in every surface imaginable.

When he asked the neat freak if he wanted to grab a beer, the man simply replied to his request with a somber, "Not now, _bruder_," and set about organizing his sock drawer by color, and later alphabetically. All Gilbert could do was sigh heavily and leave the brooding German alone.

However, that was not going to be the case today! Filled with newly found determination, Gilbert pushed himself off the lavish sofa and grabbed his crutches, limping off to go find his depressed lump of a brother.

He found the man scrubbing some dried blood off a hallway wall. Thanks to the blond, the entire mansion was now free of the gore from the Italian invasion, though it wasn't even close to being as spotless as the German's room.

Gilbert let a wide grin spread over his face as he closed in on the younger man. "Hey West!" he called, clonking the end of one of his crutches atop the blond's head, "Stop sulking and come grab a beer with the awesome me!"

Ludwig uttered a low growl, rubbing his head as he stood and faced his obnoxious older brother. "I told you, I don't want to go drinking with you. Go bother someone else." His words didn't carry their usual bite as they normally did, only serving to fuel Gilbert's resolve.

"Aw, come on, West!" he grinned, "You've been sulking over Feli for weeks! You were a sad sack even before he took off with Ravis! _Mein Gott_, _bruder_, if you don't loosen up soon you're gonna become even more of a tight-ass."

Before Ludwig had the chance to punch that stupid grin off the albino's face, his cell phone went off in his pocket. Sighing heavily, he retrieved the device and checked the caller ID, answering immediately when he saw it was his boss. "Yes, Mr Braginski."

"_Ludwig, hi!" _came the light chirp on the other end.

The Arian's jaw literally dropped as his light blue eyes went wide. "F-Feli?" he stammered.

"Feli's calling on the boss' cell phone?" Gilbert asked, tilting his head to the side curiously, "Guess that means the boss must've found him first."

"Feli, where are you? Are you all right? What happened?" Ludwig asked quickly. Getting bored and slightly curious, Gilbert put his ear to the other side of the phone in order to listen in on the conversation. For some reason, Ludwig surprisingly didn't smack the other upside the head.

"_Oh, I'm fine," _the Italian replied on the other end. Ludwig gave a small relieved sigh. _"Me and Ravis were taken to the police station, but now we're in Alfred's apartment!"_

"Alfred?"

"_Oh, he's a police officer and my new friend! He let me use his kitchen to make pasta and everything!"_

This entire thing was more than a little confusing. Then again, this was Feliciano; of course things were going to be unclear. "Why are you on the boss' phone?"

"Alfred is Mr. Ivan's boyfriend. He's here, too! But Alfred cut himself on some glass and now he's in the hospital, so Mr. Ivan's not really happy right now. But at least he let me call you!"

"Aw, how sweet," Gilbert snickered, "The boss' in loovve. No wonder he's been disappearing so much lately, too busy fucking his little police officer." Ludwig gave his brother an annoyed shove as the other continued to giggle like an idiot.

There was a small pause on the other end. _"Um, Mr. Ivan said I only had three minutes to talk to you before I had to give the phone back, so…I really miss you. Hey! Maybe you could come over here and meet Alfred soon! You'd really like him, he's nice! Oh, um, I have to go. _Ti amo_, Ludi!"_

A light blush dusted Ludwig's cheeks and Gilbert began laughing even harder. "_Ja, Ich Liebe Dich auch, _Feli." The blond turned to his brother and kicked one of the crutches out from under him, causing the albino to fall hard on his ass. Gilbert pouted, massaging his rear as he cast a glare up at the younger.

There was some shuffling in the background as before his boss' voice came on the other end. _"Ludwig, I need a ride to the hospital. Meet me at the bar in ten minutes."_

"Yes sir." The German replied obediently.

When the other end went dead, Ludwig knew his boss had finished his orders. But, why would he want the blond to pick him up at the bar rather than this 'Alfred' person's apartment… unless what Feliciano had told him wasn't supposed to be meant for him to hear. Ivan was trying to keep his relationship with this officer a secret, and Feliciano had unknowingly just given that secret away. This information could very well lead to even more pain for himself and his little Italian.

Regardless, Ludwig snapped his phone closed and marched resolutely toward the door. As long as he played dumb and Feliciano didn't do anything else stupid, they'd both be all right.

"Hey!" Gilbert shouted after his brother, still struggling to right himself from his seat on the floor. "Get back here, West! You can't just throw the awesome me on the ground then walk away without helping me back up! HEY!"

oOxoxOo

Ivan stood impatiently outside the bar, pulling his coat further over the sling on his arm. His arm and chest were aching, and the cold was only serving to aggravate them both. A white limousine pulled up along the edge of the sidewalk, and without bothering to wait for Ludwig to get out, Ivan climbed in, practically slamming the door behind him. He was irritated and he didn't need anyone infuriating him further.

He'd called the hospital to find out what room Alfred had been placed in so the younger man wouldn't have to sit in the waiting room to be picked up. However, the woman on the other line had immediately crushed his plans, telling him that Alfred would have to stay overnight. That little bit of information earned the poor woman a nasty earful from the now pissed off Russian. Ivan was practically seething when he hung up, deciding to release some of his newly found anger on Feliciano before storming out the door. Well, he _was_ going to beat the boy sometime in the future for making Alfred cut his hand. He'd worry about coming up with an excuse for the Italian's black eye later once Alfred was out of the hospital. For now he just wanted to see his poor little sunflower's face again.

Sensing his boss' frustration, Ludwig kept silent for the entirety of the ride. When they pulled in to the front of the hospital, he only opened his mouth long enough to ask if he should wait there for the Russian. Ivan waved him off, telling him he'd call when he needed him. Ludwig nodded and took his leave, still very much curious about his boss' new "love interest".

Ivan made his way to the fourth floor of the hospital, scaring various doctors, nurses, women and small children along the way, casting each a glare that could kill a man where he stood. When he reached room 813, he did his best to reign in his bad mood before rapping lightly on the door.

"Um, come in?" came the uncertain response on the other side. Ivan cracked open the door, peaking his head inside. Alfred was lying in the hospital bed, looking up at him with curious blue eyes before a wide grin spread over his face. "Hey, Vanya," he greeted happily, "Sorry, I thought you were a doctor 'er something." From what he could see, the blond had yet to regain any color in his face. He was hooked up to an IV feeding him blood and his wrist was wound heavily in bandages. Despite that, though, he seemed to be doing very well.

Ivan could feel some of his irritation fade away, offering the other a smile of his own as he entered the room. He took a seat in a chair beside the bed, taking Alfred's better hand in his own before asking, "How are you doing, _lyubit_?"

"Eh, I'm all right," Alfred shrugged, still smiling brightly, "A little upset that I have to spend the night. Who knew cups could be so dangerous?"

"Da," the other answered simply. He gave a small sigh, letting his eyes drift around the room.

Alfred immediately picked up on the other's mood. He tilted his head to the side, sapphire eyes taking on a rather nervous look as he eyed the Russian worriedly. "Hey, what's wrong?"

The question seemed to startle the silverette from his train of thought. He cast Alfred a quick, small smile, giving his hand a tiny squeeze. "There's nothing wrong. Just…thinking is all." When the look on the American's face didn't fade, Ivan gave another small sigh. That adorable bastard was more perceptive than he let on, either that, or it was pretty obvious that there was something bothering him. "Alright, you win," he sighed, "I don't like seeing you in here. I know it's just overnight, but… just knowing you're in the hospital is enough to make me upset. I never want to see you in here again, all right, _lyubit_? Promise me that you won't end up in here ever again."

The declaration shocked the officer. He stared at the Russian for a minute, but quickly shook it off and smiled up at the man. "Well, I'll do everything I can," he answered honestly, "I can't guarantee it a hundred percent, but I'll definitely try my hardest."

Ivan felt the smile on his face become more sincere, and he laughed lightly. He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on the American's slightly chapped lips. "Da, that is all I ask for," he said.

As they pulled apart, Alfred suddenly remembered something. "Oh, hey, is Feliciano okay?" With all that had happened that morning, he'd nearly forgotten to ask about to little brunet.

Ivan pulled away from the blond, subtly glancing around the room as he tried to come up with a quick, believable excuse. "Um, he's fine. After he woke up, he accidentally saw the blood in the kitchen again and passed out. He hit his head on the counter and gave himself a black eye, but he'll be okay."

That was a horrible lie. Couldn't he have come up with something just a little more believabl-

"Wow, how did he accomplish that?" Alfred chuckled.

Well then, perhaps it was believable; either that or Alfred was just _that _gullible.

"He's a talented young boy," Ivan shrugged, causing both men to laugh.

The Russian stayed with the blond for a few hours, doing his best to keep the younger company. Gradually, Ivan noticed the color beginning to return to Alfred's cheeks, which was a huge relief to the older man. With a few prolonged kisses goodbye, Ivan called for Ludwig to come get him and return him to Alfred's apartment. There was still no way in Hell he was going back home just yet.

Ivan turned back from the doorway, finding the American pouting in the bed. The silverette couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the pitiful sight. "Don't worry, I'll be back to pick you up in the morning, _malyutka_," he said reassuringly.

Alfred only continued to pout further, giving an irritated huff. "I know," he muttered, "but it still sucks that you have to leave. I don't wanna hafta spend the night here alone."

Unable to help himself, Ivan made his way back over to the bed and placed another kiss atop the man's forehead. However, he wasn't expecting to be yanked downward into a passionate kiss. After a few moments, he was released, and he found himself staring curiously down at a furiously blushing American. He felt a small smirk creep across his lips, "Well now, what was that?"

The blond shifted a bit. "I love you, Vanya," the other replied earnestly, looking decidedly liked a kicked puppy. The expression was there to draw a sense of pity, not guilt, and it was working quite well.

There were those three words again. Ivan couldn't help but find himself at a loss for words. He'd simply thought the younger was in a sleep-induced stupor when he'd whispered them the first time, but it was clear that the other was very much awake now. Alfred tilted his head to the side, still wearing the same pitiful look as he waited for a response.

Finally, a bright, warm smile painted itself over the Russian's face. "Da, _ya tozhye tyebya lyublyu, Fredka_," he replied happily. He leaned back over and captured the other's lips again in another loving kiss, feeling the American grinning. He really did love the younger man, and now that he'd finally admitted it to himself, there was no way he'd ever lose him.

oOxoxOo

"_Che palle_, I can't believe I let that Russian bastard get away!"

The little brunet grumbled angrily to himself, arms crossed firmly over his chest as he glared at nothing in particular. He'd become what felt like a permanent fixture to his bed during the past few days. The only entertaining part of his day had been the times Antonio would come into his room to change the bandages on his leg while he chatted lightly with the younger man.

"Oh come on, Lovi, don't be so hard on yourself," the Spaniard smiled up at him from his spot on the floor. He wound the bandages diligently around his charge's injured leg, obviously having been very practiced at the skill. "You did very good considering Ivan's one of the most dangerous men in the world."

Lovino growled and threw one of the pillows off his bed at the other's head. He would have preferred something harder, but there wasn't anything within arms reach. "_Zitto, idiota!_ The gun was pressed against his head and I _still _missed that damn _stronzo_! Ah! Not so tight, you jerk!"

"_Lo siento_, Lovi" Antionio said softly, then stood, "Well, you're done." He leaned over and placed a kiss in the mop of brunet hair, earning himself a slap in the back of the head. Antonio only giggled as he blocked the strikes.

"Moron," the younger grumbled, a light bit of pink dusting his cheeks.

Both looked up as a quick knock sounded at the door before it was pushed open. A tall, muscular, and remarkably attractive brunet man strode inside. A wide grin was spread firmly over his rugged features. "Guess what~" he sang, his giddiness only too apparent to the other two.

"I'm guessing it's something good, Romulous sir?" Antonio smiled sheepishly, running his hand over the back of his chocolate hair.

"Si~, very good!" the older man chirped.

"Did you finally find my idiot brother?" Lovino asked sharply.

At this, Romulous' bright grin turned into an embarrassed smile, "Ah, well~…no, not yet." Lovino only rolled his eyes at his grandfather's absurdity. He and Feliciano were so obviously related it was almost scary. "But," the man recovered, "we're getting close! I ran into Yong Soo while I was out collecting payments, and we made a deal. He says that he can issue some of his men to assist us in finding Feli, and that he can also talk to Yao about getting us even more help! We are going to be paying them for their services, of course."

"WHAT?" Lovino snarled, hurling another pillow at his grandfather, "We're asking those Chinese _bastards_ for help now! Have you lost your mind? That's like asking help from Ivan's psychopathic sister to go murder Ivan in his sleep!"

Romulous gave a nervous chuckle, carding his fingers through his dark hair. "I figured that would be your reaction. And that's why you're going to stay here while we go out and look for him." He suddenly took on a slightly more serious expression, rubbing his hand over his chin thoughtfully. "I don't want to risk another of my grandsons being kidnapped or worse, so you're going to stay here with Antonio, okay~?"

The younger Italian grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. "Fine, I'd rather be here than being forced to work with those useless Asians. Just don't get shot out there, okay you stupid idiot? If anything, use that dumb German as a meat shield."

There was another bit of pink dusting the younger boy's cheeks, making his grandfather laugh warmly. "Don't worry, I don't think Ulrich would ever let anything happen to me," Romulous grinned, then turned to leave with a wave, "_Ti amo_, Lovino. I'll be back later~!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the younger brunet grumbled.

* * *

><p>Oh no, Feli went and spilled the beans, but surprisingly to Ludwig instead of Alfred. Hm, I wonder what the potato-bastard is going to do about it, lol. Poor little Alfred, stuck in the hospital overnight. At least they both finally admitted their feelings, and clearly this time. Oh noes, the Italians and the Chinese are working together! This spells bad news for our little love birds, but good news for Romulous and Lovino!<p>

Well, I'll do my best to update soon, but in the meantime please **review**. I love hearing all of your thoughts on each chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

Hey everybody! Soooo sorry I haven't updated in a while. School sux TT~TT and homework keeps keeping me from writing, but I'll try to keep posting as quickly as I can, and also I shall reply to everyone's reviews to this chapter, I swear it!

Anywho, let's get to the more important matter of thanking everyone who reviewed last time ^J^: **LookToMyBookshelf, Canada-Matthew, RabidOtakuGirl, yokan-sama, Anumi, Trunksters, achromatic, Silent Deathbringer, Kopanda, Funky Bracelet Chick, kingdomheartslover13, GaarasShinigami666, ChainLincoln, With-All-Hearts, RawrziesDeLoli, Rennasakura, soggypotatoes, loserpalooza, BackyardMilitia, SoulBreak, XxDamned ForeverXx, NightSongstress, and Dackerie**

Thank you guys SOOOOOO much! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and will review with as much vigor as before!

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><p>Alfred shifted uncomfortably in the hospital bed, fidgeting with the starch white sheets covering his legs. Hospitals sucked. Everything was blindingly white, hurting the American's already sensitive eyes. None of the nurses were nice or cute, he wasn't allowed to get up and wander around, and worst of all he was stuck wearing this flimsy blue hospital gown that didn't even cover his ass!<p>

With the tv broken, all the blond could do was lie there and stare out the window, which was too high off the ground for him to actually see anything other than the sky. The most entertaining part of his day was watching the sky change from light gray to darker gray. He'd called Mattie earlier, but his brother had only been able to talk for a couple minutes before having to run off to class. Arthur wasn't picking up his phone, so Alfred could only assume the Brit had already gone off to work, and Ivan wasn't answering either. He was bored, lonely, and getting really frustrated with the nagging ache in his right wrist. The doctors had taken him off the pain suppressants sometime last night, and had yet to give him his prescription for the pills he was supposed to take. Stupid cups. As soon as he got home he was going to dump all of them in the trash and buy new plastic ones.

The wounded American sighed heavily, leaning back against the wall with his injured hand resting lightly on his chest. Ivan had said he was going to come pick him up sometime that morning. It was already three thirty, well past morning, and the man hadn't even so much as called. As if the blond's mood wasn't already dampened enough. He was beginning to think the older male had forgotten about him.

Just then, a small knock sounded at the door, instantly placing a bright smile on the American's face. "Yeah?" he called, trying not to let his voice bubble over too much in excitement. He was ready to get the hell outta there.

The door pushed open, and a brilliantly smiling Ivan poked his head into the room. "_Dobrey utra_," the other greeting happily, sauntering into the room. In his good hand, he wielded a massive bouquet of sunflowers, each easily the size of Alfred's head.

Alfred literally had to restrain himself to keep from leaping out and tackling the Russian in a hug. "Where did you get those!" he asked, awe clear in his sky blue eyes.

Ivan giggled, handing the other the bouquet before taking the chair beside the bed. "Do you like them, _moi podsolnechnik_?" He watched happily as the blond buried his face in the soft petals.

"Of course! They're awesome!" the American chirped, bad mood now completely forgotten. "I haven't seen sunflowers like this since I went on that trip to my uncle's farm. I didn't think ones like these grew in Russia."

The silverette shrugged, rubbing his fingers along some of the petals. "Well, they do in some parts. These, however, came from a field in Nevada. I had them shipped overnight, which was the reason it took me so long to arrive. My apologies, _lyubov_."

With the lack of response, Ivan's attention was brought from the beautiful bouquet up to see Alfred staring at him with an expression that was entirely dumbstruck. "You got these delivered from _Nevada_! They look like they were pulled straight from the ground a few minutes ago! This is like the most awesome thing anyone's ever done for me!" Careful of both his wounded wrist as well as the sling on the other's arm, Alfred pulled the larger man into a sort of awkward embrace. "You're so awesome, Vanya. Thank you so much."

Chuckling softly, Ivan placed a kiss in the mop of wheat hair, breathing in Alfred's warm scent mixed with the delightful aroma of the sunflowers. "You are very welcome, _moi dorogoy_." He pulled back from the embrace, and stood from his chair, taking the American's good hand in his own. "Now come. I'm sure you do not wish to be in this hospital any longer, da?" The American giggled, still very much giddy from his earlier present, and followed after the silverette.

They spoke to Alfred's doctor and retrieved his clothes. The blond had some trouble getting his pants and shirt on with his inability to use his right hand, but Ivan was only too willing to assist the younger in both stripping and clothing him. If Alfred hadn't known better, he would have said the older man had been a little _too _eager with the stripping.

"So, where're we goin'?" The blond fiddled with the temporary cast on his wrist, trying to adjust the damn thing so it would stop digging into his arm. He really wondered if doctors actually knew what they were doing or if they were really just out to torture the innocent people that wandered into their hospitals.

"That is a secret," the Russian answered simply, smiling innocently down at the younger who had shot him a cute little pout. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll enjoy it." It hadn't just been the flowers that had been holding Ivan up from picking up his poor little love. He'd been spending all morning calling a few of his 'business partners' as well as other 'acquaintances' setting up the perfect outing for himself and Alfred. He was going to give the younger man a taste of the high life he would never forget.

"Aw, you're no fun," Alfred chuckled, giving the other his trademark grin. As soon as the two stepped through the automatic doors leading out into the snowy Russian air, Alfred's eyes went as wide as dinner plates. "IS THAT A LIMO!" Sitting right outside the front doors sat a brilliantly white limousine with beautiful gold trim and rims that sparkled in the reflected light of the snow. It had to be one of the coolest things Alfred had ever seen in his whole life.

Ivan wrapped his arm around the younger's waist, pulling the flabbergasted male into a quick kiss. "Da, that is my limousine. It is one of many, but that particular one happens to be my favorite." He'd called up Ludwig and had pre-instructed the man on where to drive them, also making sure to give clear and specific orders that he was not to be seen or heard from during their entire outing.

The blond's eyes were practically shining with awe and child like amazement as he smiled expectantly up at the man. "It really belongs to you?" he asked excitedly. Ivan simply nodded. Alfred practically squealed in delight, grabbing the Russian's hand and dragging him down the front walk, "COME ON, LET'S GO! I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO RIDE IN A LIMO! THIS IS GONNA BE SO COOL!"

Seeing his little sunflower so jovial also helped to further brighten Ivan's mood as well. The warm, fuzzy feeling that invaded his chest whenever he was around the happy-go-lucky American was in full force. He allowed himself to be dragged over to the vehicle, then –being the chivalrous man he was- opened the door for his beloved, who happily lunged inside. Ivan climbed in after him, finding the younger man bouncing in the leather seats like a small child. The enormous sunflowers he was holding to his chest also greatly served to make him look like a capricious five-year-old.

Alfred made sure not to miss a single button or switch as he examined the interior of the limo, giggling excitedly when one of the switches revealed a small liquor cabinet filled with a wide assortment of vodka. This was so cool!

Ivan chuckled softly, wrapping his arm around the younger's slim waist and pulling him close. He placed a kiss atop his soft hair. "I see you're quite enamored with my limousine."

"Well, yeah," the other laughed, continuing to mess with whatever he could get find. "I've never been in a limo before in my life! This is awesome! And this is really yours? Like you _own _this?" Ivan gave a small nod, looking rather full of himself, which instantly causing Alfred's giddiness to spike once again. "That is **SO **COOL!"

The silverette took the other's chin between his fingers, tilting his head up to capture his lips in his own. He could feel the American grin into the kiss, and soon enough he found a hand woven through his hair, tugging him down so their lips crushed together more firmly. Ivan allowed this, at least until he felt the other's tongue try to slip between his lips. Oh no, Alfred was _not _allowed to be dominant, not even for a kiss. Ivan didn't play that way.

Wrapping his arm back around the other's waist, Ivan hoisted his sunflower onto his lap, at the same time shoving his own tongue into the younger man's mouth and ceasing any fantasies of dominance. Alfred didn't mind at all. He only too willingly allowed the other to invade him, relishing the warm, almost sweet taste of vodka and snow that burned his throat just like the alcoholic drink the silverette was so fond of. It was also fun seeing this aggressive, possessive side of his Russian.

Alfred giggled as they pulled away, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. However, it appeared Ivan had yet to have his fill of the American. He continued to kiss and nip at the nape of the blond's neck, occasionally running his tongue along the reddened flesh. This earned him more laughter and giggling from the other man. "S-stop it, V-Vanya, that-that tickles!"

Ivan uttered a soft little growl as he nipped at the skin again. "Nyet," he replied simply. Still keeping his grip on the younger as to prevent him from escaping, Ivan weaved his hand up the blond's shirt, feeling the soft flesh beneath his rough, calloused hands. Alfred was so warm. He turned the American until his back rested against his chest, now turning his attention to the blond's cute little ear. Ivan nibbled on the soft appendage, causing his captive little sunflower to shiver pleasurably.

"You are so beautiful, _podsolnechnik_," Ivan whispered, nuzzling his forehead into Alfred's soft hair, "and you are mine. I won't let anyone else have you."

Alfred twisted himself back just enough to place a small kiss on the other's lips. "Yours?"

"Mine." The Russian tightened his hold around the other's waist just the slightest, emphasizing his statement further. Alfred was starting to feel just like that stuffed polar bear his brother always carried around with him.

oOxoxOo

Ravis watched curiously from his spot on the sofa, occasionally trying to get closer to see what was going on when his line of vision was blocked. He'd never seen the Italian concentrate so hard on anything before. "A-Are you sure you know wh-what you're doing?" he asked, not used to having his boss gone for a set amount of time. It was a little odd knowing that the insane Russian wasn't going to randomly pop out of nowhere at any time.

Eyebrows knit together, tongue sticking from his mouth in a clear sign of the effort he was putting into his little project, Feliciano took a moment to smile up at the boy. "Si~ I know exactly what I'm doing!" The little blond cast him a curious and slightly unbelieving look before the other turned back to the band around his ankle.

Though not too handy in the killing department, Feliciano had become very well versed in the art of escaping confinement, ranging from handcuffs to prison cells. Not only that, but he could actually be quite clever when he wanted to be, having outsmarted many a potential kidnapper and assassin using both intellect as well as his exceptional speed and agility. He was a force to be reckoned with in his own right. It was truly a shame how so many people thought so little of him.

Ivan was the first to see through the boy's ditzy exterior –aside from his grandfather- and into his inner functionality as a member of the mafia. Feliciano's skills would definitely prove beneficial in many situations, and being a man of power, Ivan prided himself in surrounding himself with the best of the best. Unfortunately for the Russian, he wasn't counting on the brunet's absurd amount of loyalty not commonly found within the mafia. Feliciano would never betray his love for his family just for something as superficial as money and an opportunity for power.

The brunet had searched the house, hoping to find some sort of bobby pin or something that he could fashion into a makeshift key. Content with a paper clip, Feliciano began work on undoing the bands around both his and Ravis' ankles. Normally, modern house-arrest bands would have alarms installed to keep the convicted from trying this exact same thing. However, these were older models and had yet to be installed with any such device.

After another minute or so there was a loud click and a thump as the band dropped to the floor. Feliciano grinned brightly, ecstatic at his handy work. "Ve~! I got it~!" he cheered. "Now for you, Ravis!"

The young blond swallowed hard as the Italian began working on his ankle-band, shifting nervously where he sat. "Uh, m-maybe this isn't…isn't such a good idea," he whimpered, eyes darting around the room in an almost paranoid fashion. What if Ivan and Alfred walked in on them right that second? He wasn't sure what Alfred would do, but his boss would surely give the two a beating they wouldn't forget –or recover from- for a long time. "Wh-what if we get caught?"

Again, Feliciano cast a resplendent smile up at the boy. "Don't be silly! Mr. Ivan went to go take Alfred out somewhere special~. They won't get back until later tonight, and we'll definitely be back by then! These things might be hard to get off, but they're easy to put back on!"

By this time, horrible, almost nauseating images of things Ivan would do to them if the man found out were flashing through Ravis' mind like a high definition movie. He quickly shook his head, nearly giving himself whiplash in the process. "No, no! This isn't a good idea! The boss' going to kill us, or worse! Let's just stay here until they both get back…"

"Ve~, No can do~!" Feliciano chirped, "I've got something I gotta do and I need someone to go with me." With one final click, Ravis' ankle band hit the floor with a thud as well, nearly causing the young boy to have a heart attack. Feliciano stood from his seat on the floor, placing a hand on the quivering teen's shoulder. "Don't worry," he smiled brightly, "Mr. Ivan and Alfred won't find out. Come on~." Despite the boy's struggles and protests, the Italian dragged him out the door along out into the cold Russian air.

oOxoxOo

"OW! Not so tight!" Gilbert yowled, sounding very much like an angry cat, gritting his teeth as Toris wound the bandage around the albino's wounded leg.

"I'm sorry," the Lithuanian replied innocently, undoing the bandage to make it looser.

With so many people gone, the duty of treating the wounded had fallen onto Toris' shoulders. It wasn't that he necessarily minded this. In fact, he was used to playing nursemaid to all of his brothers in the Bratva. It would simply make things a little easier if Gilbert could actually hold still for longer than three seconds at a time.

Releasing a rather irritated sigh, Gilbert relaxed back down into the couch, setting his half empty bottle of beer onto the end table. "Anyway, like the 'awesome me' was saying, d'ya hear boss got 'imself another fuck-buddy to play with?"

Toris turned back at the man with a look that screamed pure horror, recoiling as if he'd just been inches from a venomous snake. "A-Are you serious?"

Although never actually having been involved in any type of emotional relationship, everyone in the Russian mafia was well aware of their boss' deranged need to seek out concubines and make their lives a living hell. The last time this had occurred was with a young boy from Finland –Tino, they believed his name was- that Ivan had 'liberated' from his lover –a Swedish man named Berwald-. The Swede had fought tooth and claw to protect his lover from the silverette's icy clutches, only to end up with his brains splattered against the wall, a majority of his intestines spilt on the floor. After witnessing the death of his husband, the Finish boy ceased to put up any sort of fight. Normally this would simply result in a swifter demise, as Ivan liked to be entertained. However, Tino's sweet face and adorable body type was enough to amuse the older man. Tino had outlasted many of the Russian's previous 'lovers', entertaining the silverette for a good three months before having his throat slit.

However, the Lithuanian found it odd that no one had been told of Ivan's taking a new fuck toy. Normally, the Russian wouldn't hesitate to make it clear that a 'special guest' was being kept within the building, and was not to be touched by anyone other than himself. It certainly was strange…

"Yep!" the German chirped, "Heard it straight from the boss' phone myself! Apparently the reason Mr. Boss man keeps disappearin' so much, -other than that psychopathic sister of his, of course- 's cause he's been goin' off to make _sweet love _to this little 'Alfred' kid of his." Looking around, Gilbert grinned brightly when he found the bottle of beer he'd nearly forgotten about, snatching it off the coffee table and taking a large swig. "The thing I don't get is why a police officer of all people? I don't think he's actually tortourin' the guy like usual, but I mean there're plenty of good fucks out there that'll work for cheap without any of the hassle. Saw a cute one on the street corner the other day that was a real cutie."

Toris simply shrugged, continuing his ministrations on the other man's leg as the albino guzzled his alcoholic beverage. "That, I don't know. What I do know, however, is that I definitely feel sorry for that poor man. Who knows what kind of horrible methods Mr. Braginski is using to keep him quiet."

oOxoxOo

The limousine pulled lazily up along the sidewalk, stopping a few centimeters from the curb. Ivan stepped out of the vehicle first, offering his hand to the younger man as he assisted him onto the icy sidewalk.

Alfred beamed up at the man, giving him a playful elbow in the side. "You do know chivalry is dead, right?"

The Russian only gave a small shrug, reaching out and taking the man's left hand in his own. "I believe that saying only applies to men and women. And if I am not mistaken, you are not a woman, da?"

"I can't tell if you're being sweet or a jerk."

Ivan laughed lightly, placing a small peck on Alfred's forehead. "Can't it be both?"

The blond only shook his head, continuing to smile brightly before taking in their surroundings. So, they were in a…park, maybe?

"The park?" Alfred asked, casting the other a curious head tilt to the side.

"Da," Ivan smiled, "I had wanted to take you ice skating, but with our current injuries, I figured that would probably be a little silly. So, for the start of our evening, I decided we could take a stroll in my favorite part of the city. With all of the snow, it is truly beautiful this time of year, da?"

Alfred took another look at the wide, open area. Normally, the American wouldn't waste a second pressing the fact that he _hated _the snow. But with all of the couples wandering around, snuggling up to one another for warmth, and how the ground and the trees sparkled in the afternoon light, Alfred couldn't deny that this wintry wonderland was indeed beautiful.

"Yeah, it is," he said softly, still taking in the sights. He looked up at the other man with a bright grin, then took the Russian's hand in his own as he pulled him along the snowy sidewalk, "Well, what're we waitin' for?" Despite his hatred for snow, Alfred found that even if it meant wandering around in his least favorite element, at least the blond finally got another step closer in delving into Ivan's 'mysterious' life.

The two wandered the park for a while, chatting about this and that. Well, Alfred was at least. Ivan was content just listening, the little smile permanently stuck on his face.

Alfred was beginning to rekindle his love for the fluffy white flakes that he'd possessed as a child. Every once in a while, he'd stick out his tongue trying to catch a few as they drifted lazily down from the sky. It was adorable to watch, and occasionally when the younger's influence was at a high, the Russian would stick his tongue out as well, earning him several curious stares from random passerbies.

"Hey Vanya."

Ivan tilted his head back down, having been rather preoccupied in the act of snowflake catching, only to be struck in the face with a blast of cold. He quickly shook himself off, giving a small glare at the blond who was currently laughing his ass off behind a tree. Oh, so he thought that was funny, did he? Well Ivan wasn't about to let him and that adorable little ass of his get away with that. Snow was his element, and he was prepared to teach that lesson to his little American.

The Russian reached down and scooped up a nice little pile of snow, -even with only one hand- expertly crafting a perfect snowball, and hurling it at the blond. It struck Alfred in the shoulder, and like that the battle was on.

Ivan had a much easier time maneuvering around his wounded arm than Alfred. The younger man wasn't used to being incapacitated in such a way, resulting in tiny, awkwardly shaped snowballs that often missed their mark due to the fact that he wasn't left handed. Each of Ivan's, however, was just as perfectly crafted as the last and always hit their mark.

"I believe it's time for you to surrender, _malyutka_," the Russian called out, a snowball sitting in his hand, ready for whenever Alfred decided to pop out from wherever he was currently taking cover.

"NEVER!" came the responsive battle cry.

Ivan wheeled back, just in time to get pegged in the nose with another icy projectile. The American did a few unnecessary tuck-and-rolls that he'd learned in his police training, diving behind a nearby crumbling stonewall. As swiftly as he was able to, he crafted another snowball, holding it ready for his next strike. Suddenly, a loud yelp escaped him as a large pile of snow fell over his head, much of the frozen liquid making it down his shirt and against his skin. Alfred practically flew from his spot on the ground, wriggling as he tried desperately to remove the frozen substance from against his skin.

Seeing this as an opportunity, Ivan wrapped his arm around the younger's waist and hoisted the smaller man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Ready to give in now, _moi dorogoy_?"

Alfred grumbled a bit under his breath, crossing his arms with a huff. "Fine, you win," he pouted, "But I demand a rematch!"

Laughing, Ivan released his catch; setting the blond back on the ground and ruffling the younger's hair. "Challenge accepted," he smiled cheerfully, "but some other time, da? This was very fun but I have more planned for our evening, _lyubov_."

"Well, lead the way, big guy," Alfred grinned, following after the Russian as they made their way back to the limousine. Not even two hours into their evening and Alfred was already having the time of his life.

* * *

><p>Wow, Ivan's a real asshole, aint he? Can't believe he murdered poor little Finland and Sweden in such cold blood. But of course it wasnt just him...I helped too ) lol, poor Alfred. His boyfriend's such a dick. Not only that, but wow, Feliciano's actually useful in his own special way. People dont give the little guy enough credit ^J^<p>

Anyway, love you all! I can't wait to read all of your wonderful **REVIEW**s and I'll try to update as soon as possible!


	9. Chapter 9

Hey all my beloved readers! I am **so **sorry I didn't reply to any of your reviews this last time T^T I swear I'll write all of you back for this chapter! Speaking of my AWESOME reviewers, let me give an uber amazing shout out to everyone who reviewed this last time:

**SilverTrain, Star-Bunny-Honeybee, Kai Kaiba, animechick57, Trunksters, LookToMyBookshelf, With-All-Hearts, RawrziesDeLoli, loserpalooza, NightSongstress, Dackerie, ChainLincoln, XxDamned ForeverXx, Rennasakura, kingdomheartslover13, Into The Ramen Bowl We Go, artfan, Canada-Matthew, NinjahSocks, and GaarasShinigami666**

It's so amazing to see so many repeat reviewers! I really admire all you guys who have the determination to review for every chapter, you guys ROCK! I also LOOVVE seeing so many new readers! Every time I see a new name for a review my heart skips a beat *dreamy fangirl look* Ahem…anyway, I love ALL of you soooo much. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

* * *

><p>Feliciano hummed cheerfully as both he and Ravis wandered along the icy Russian streets, thoroughly delighted with the new prospect of freedom that flowed through him. It had been so long since he'd last been able to wander as he pleased. Ivan had kept him bound to his mansion for so long that he'd nearly forgotten how cold the Russian winter could be. Sure, the cold was certainly not a pleasant thing, especially compared to the lovely Italian weather he was so accustomed to, but fresh air was fresh air, so there was little complaining he could do on the matter.<p>

Occasionally, the brunet found himself glancing back at Ravis as the young boy whimpered quietly to himself, blue eyes darting around the streets in an obviously paranoid fashion. Each time he did this, he found himself absentmindedly feeling for Alfred's cell phone that he had tucked safely away in his coat pocket. Feliciano needed to get the boy's mind off of his boss, or there could be trouble in the near future for the both of them.

Without warning, the Italian whirled back gracefully on his heel, smiling brilliantly at the younger. "Hey Ravis, you wanna get some pasta?" he chirped, not even bothering to wait for a reply as he took the blond's hand, pulling him down the street at a much quicker pace. "The last time I was here with _mio_ _Nonno _and _mio fratello_, we found a really nice restaurant that served pasta! It wasn't that good, but it's definitely better than anything I've eaten at Mr. Ivan's house~."

"W-Wait, h-h-hold on!" Ravis pleaded, already uncomfortable enough as it is. The last thing he wanted was to prolong his stay away from Alfred's apartment. He struggled fruitlessly against the older man's hold, eventually forced to give in as he was dragged forcefully inside a small Italian restaurant.

oOxoxOo

The door gave a discontented groan as it was forced open, swinging back gently as the Arian man entered the small apartment. Blue eyes quickly scanned over the little hovel before the German entered the room.

According to a brief, surprisingly descriptive and straight to the point phone call he'd received from Feliciano, there was something here that would prove key in the Italian's escape from his Russian boss. It was very unlike Feli to be so serious about something, so Ludwig found he had no choice but to risk his life and comply with his lover's wishes. He swiftly began his search through the small room, checking under couch cushions and behind the television for whatever he was supposedly looking for.

Coming up empty, Ludwig heaved a sigh, hoping that perhaps taking a step back would make this easier. He'd left Braginski and his boyfriend at a restaurant on the other side of the city, so he'd need to hurry and do what he needed to do so he would have enough time to drive back and retrieve them. Hopefully nothing would happen that would cause them to end their meal early. There was no doubt in the Arian's mind that the Russian would become suspicious as to where he was if he took an hour to go get the two.

"Damn it, Feli," he grumbled under his breath, carding his thick fingers through his slicked back hair.

…

_Ludwig glared at the unknown number flashing on his cell-phone screen, debating on whether or not to answer. Not many people had his number, so it had to be someone that knew him. Heaving a sigh, the German reluctantly flipped his phone open. "_Hallo_?" he greeted hesitantly._

"Ludi, I need you to do something for me. Start driving back to the south-eastern side of the city right now_."_

"_F-Feli?" the blond asked, a bit shell shocked at getting such a direct order from the last person he expected to have called him. Not only that, but he'd never heard the Italian sound so serious in his entire life. It was quite unnerving to say the least._

"Go now_," the brunet ordered again._

_Nearly dropping his keys, Ludwig started back up the limousine, pulling out of the parking and onto the highway. "Alright, I'm on the road. Now tell me what you need me to do. I've never heard you like this before, is everything alright?" Truth be told, he was growing concerned for the young mafia head. Something was obviously wrong._

"Everything's fine_," Feliciano replied again, his stern tone unfaltering, "_I need you to go to apartment 32B in the complex three blocks east of the Red Moon Bar. The door is locked so you'll need to find a way to get inside without damaging the door. Once you're in, search the apartment. I left the rest of the instructions on a sheet of paper in the apartment. _Ti amo_, Ludi. Ciao~."

Ludwig stared at the bright screen as the other line went dead. That certainly hadn't been expected.

…

"What the Hell did he mean 'further instructions'?" he snorted, "I can't find anything in this damn_ mist-haufen_." Thoroughly irritated and pressed for time, Ludwig took his search into the other rooms of the apartment; the bathroom, kitchen and lastly the bedroom. Finally, the blond managed to stumble upon what he believed he was searching for, confirmed by the plethora of little drawings of hearts and cats lining the boarders of the note. And just when Ludwig was starting to gain respect for the brunet too…

He skimmed the list of instructions, eyes widening a bit in surprise at the nature of the orders. According to Feliciano, Ludwig was supposed to leave a handgun in the space between the wall and the refrigerator in the kitchen, four clips of ammo in the breadbox and a few other weapons located in inconspicuous areas of the apartment. Lastly, he wanted the German to meet him outside the apartment at 3:15 exactly four days from now. Oddly specific instructions for someone who seemed so dense…

Ludwig obeyed the orders he was given without question and made to leave, shoving the note inside his pocket to be burned later. As he locked the front door, ready to make his way back out of the complex he took one last glance inside. "I hope you know what you're doing," he mumbled softly, closing the door behind him.

oOxoxOo

Sky blue eyes glancing up for what seemed to be the hundredth time that evening, Alfred smiled brightly as Ivan met his gaze. The Russian returned the dazzling grin with a little smile of his own, tightening his grip on the younger man's un-injured hand just the slightest. "What is it, _lyubov_?" he asked playfully, "You've been staring at me all day. Do I have something on my face?"

Alfred giggled, leaning against the taller man as they walked along the chilly streets. "I just can't stop myself," the blond replied earnestly, "I mean, you're like the greatest person in this entire country. You're sweet and you're smart and you're sexy…I can't think of anything I must've done to deserve you." At this, Alfred's gaze dropped a bit forlornly down to the snowy sidewalk, his smile fading slightly. Ivan gave his love a curious look as he started again, this time in a much softer tone. "I mean…I'm really not all that great," he sighed, shrugging, "I always tell people I'm awesome, and I always try my hardest to be a hero, but…I'm like the last person I'd expect to ever be with someone like you."

A silver eyebrow tilted upward curiously, Ivan eyed the younger's sudden mood shift cryptically. Surely it wasn't like his little American sunflower to think so lowly of himself. The Russian stopped, their intertwined hands causing Alfred to come to a halt as well. Alfred turned back to ask what was up, only to have the bottom of his chin taken between Ivan's thick fingers and tilted upward. His grasp was gentle, but firm enough to keep the blond from turning away.

"What has given you this sudden low opinion of yourself, _moi lyubov_?" he asked, an assertiveness in his tone that he normally used to get information out of captives and occasionally a few of his own men.

The change in character was enough to cause the American to flinch backwards, not having expected the sudden probing for information. "N-Nah, it's…it's nothin', Vanya," he laughed nervously. The other didn't look the slightest bit convinced, keeping his firm hold on the other's jaw. "I'm serious," Alfred tried again, "there's nothing wrong."

"I do not believe you," Ivan replied simply. He leaned down, and captured the other man's lips in an unbearably sweet kiss. The action had practically made Alfred melt, turning the little American to goo against him. When they pulled away, Ivan had to wrap his arm around the younger's waist to keep him from toppling over, and also to keep him from escaping. He leaned in close, just barely enough so that his lips were a mere half centimeter from Alfred's ear, whispering so that his breath lightly ghosted over the delicate flesh. "Are you going to tell me now, _podsolnechnik_?"

Alfred's face was hidden against the Russian's broad chest, a blush on his face that wasn't just from the chilly winter air. Man, why did he even have to bring this up? Sometimes he wondered if there even was a barrier between his brain and his mouth, he always seemed to be spewing out whatever's on his mind without thinking first. This was definitely going to ruin an already seemingly perfect outing.

Inching away just the slightest bit, Alfred gave another bright smile up at the older man. Maybe he could still salvage this evening. "Why don't we talk about it after we get back to my place," he asked, voice near pleading, "I mean, it's kind of a long story and I'd rather spend that time having an awesome time with you than talking about depressing stuff. What d'ya say?"

Ivan's violet eyes narrowed slightly in thought, watching the smaller blond worry his lip nervously. He was a master at pulling information from people, using whatever means necessary. It wouldn't be too difficult to make Alfred talk, and he would find out eventually. What would be the point in turning an already wonderful date into something else?

Ivan smiled and placed another kiss on Alfred's lips, "Alright. The conversation can wait until later. For now we will enjoy ourselves, da?"

Heaving an obviously relieved sigh, Alfred beamed up at the Russian and nodded, "Thanks, big guy." The two returned to the position they were walking in earlier, fingers interlaced as they continued down the snowy Moscow streets. "So, where we off to next?" the American chirped.

The silverette smiled brightly, leading the two around a street corner, "You said you liked movies, da?"

At the mention of his favorite form of entertainment, Alfred's sky blue eyes went wide, a grin splitting his face. "Yeah!" he practically shouted, far too overly excited for his own good, "Are we gonna go see a movie?" Hopefully it would be something with a lot of action and explosives, and with a ton of one-liners. Alfred absolutely _loved _those types of movies, and it had been forever since he'd last seen one.

"Nyet," Ivan replied.

Alfred's expression immediately fell. "But…you just asked me if I liked movies," he whimpered, sounding very much like a kicked puppy. That had to be one of the biggest let-downs in Alfred's life, like that time Arthur had promised he and Matthew ice cream only to find their favorite ice cream place had been closed down.

The sound of his lover's heartbroken statement caused the Russian to giggle just the slightest. If only he was able to get as excited about the little things as much as his sunflower did. "Da, I did, just like you had asked me if I was taking you to see _a _movie. I am not taking you to see one movie, _moi lyubov_, I am taking you to see three."

"THREE?" It was as if gravity had suddenly vanished because if Alfred hadn't been holding Ivan's hand, he was sure he'd shoot off into the stratosphere. "You're really taking me to see three movies!" Ivan nodded, looking ever so proud of himself. He knew Alfred would enjoy that, although he himself wasn't exactly fond of sitting around for extensive periods of time he would deal with it if it meant seeing Alfred this happy. "Which ones!"

"That is a secret, _moi dorogoy_," the Russian sang, "You will simply have to wait and see." Just as Ivan finished his thought, the limo pulled up along side the two. Right on time. Ivan had to remember to give his German Shepard a little treat for being such a good little dog the next time he saw him. Again, the silverette chivalrously opened the door for his little love as Alfred enthusiastically bounded inside.

oOxoxOo

It had been hours and Romulous had begun to grow impatient. Yong Suu had told him specifically that he and Yao would meet himself and Ulrich at the warehouses outside the city at 4:30. It was now five, and both he and his German bodyguard were starting to get offended at the other party's blatant lack of consideration.

"Those _arschlöcher _should have been here half an hour ago," Ulrich muttered under his breath, leg bouncing anxiously as he sat leaned against the warehouse wall.

Romulous sighed, more disappointed that upset, "Yeah…I know I told you not to get so angry all the time, but right now I think the situation calls for it." In truth, the idea of being stood up by the two brothers was really only disheartening to the Italian. He didn't want to spend any more time apart from his precious grandson, yearning to just hold the boy in his arms again.

The head of the mafia was brought from his thoughts as Ulrich stiffened beside him, gun aimed directly at a lone figure walking casually towards them. As the man drew nearer, Romulous ordered his guard to lower his weapon, smiling brightly at the approaching figure.

"Kiku, what a surprise!" the brunet man chirped, throwing up his arms in a rather exasperated greeting. "Though to be honest I was expecting _i tuoi fratelli_."

The one addressed as 'Kiku' bowed respectfully. Unlike his older brother Yao, his dark hair was cut relatively short; the mop of silky black locks ending at the bottoms of his ears rather than hanging in a ponytail down to the center of his back. His dark chocolate eyes were otherwise dull as he addressed the two, most likely not all that excited about interacting with his brothers' 'business partners'.

"_Gomen nasai_, Vargas-san," the small Asian apologized a bit nervously. He wasn't too fond of other people, very much preferring to keep to himself. "They sent me to inform you that they have already begun their search for Feliciano-kun. My apologies if you were waiting long. If you have anything you wish to request of them or let them know, you may tell me and I will relay the message."

Romulous waved his hand dismissively, still grinning brightly. "No, it's fine. I'm sure your brothers are smart enough not to hurt my grandson," he reassured, his bubbly tone suddenly dropped as a hint of mischief glinted in his amber eyes, "However, I would like very much if you were to accompany my men until my little Feli is found, Kiku."

The nervous air surrounding the smaller man instantaneously increased ten-fold as he cast the much larger Italian a weak smile. "_A-Arigatou_, V-Vargas-san, but I'm afraid I must decline. You see, I am not nearly as versed in the Moscow area as my brothers as my organization deals very little in Russian affairs. I'm sad to say that I won't be of much use to you." His delicate hands absentmindedly went to finger at the sword on his belt. Before Kiku even had time to react, the butt of a gun was rammed forcefully against his head, knocking him out cold.

Without breaking a sweat, Ulrich hoisted the darker haired man over his shoulder, turning to find Romulous smiling brightly beside him, gently patting Kiku on the back. "So sorry, _mio amico_, it's nothing personal. I just need to give your brothers a little incentive to get my Feli back safe and sound." He turned to look at his bodyguard, running his large hand over the top of his blond head. "Excellent work, Beilschmidt!" he chirped, "Now how about you and I head back to the hotel and order some pasta."

Huffing a rather dog-like snort, Ulrich used his free hand to remove the one petting his head. "Don't touch me. We still need to tie up some of our loose ends before we start relaxing, _Herr _Vargas. I'm sure the pasta can wait until later." The German gave a rather unmanly yelp as his boss began fondling his ass, turning back to the other man with a glare and a snarl. "Would you stop doing that!"

Romulous simply laughed, placing a kiss atop the German's head. "Just be lucky I'm being considerate enough to appeal to your sense of modesty," he chuckled, "If you'd like, I could do something far more naughty."

The suggestive tone in the Italian's voice instantly caused the younger man's face to flush a dark red, and he quickly turned and began back toward the car. "Hurry up," he snapped, merely earning him a bright smile from his boss.

oOxoxOo

"That was so not cool," Alfred whimpered, his left arm coiled tightly around Ivan's right. His entire body trembled violently, though it wasn't exactly from the cold. It was dark and the Ivan's driver had yet to return to pick them up, which was not exactly helping the American's mood at the moment.

For some reason, the only movies playing in that theatre had been horror films. When he asked Ivan about it, the silverette only smiled and suggested it was merely a coincidence. Of course, being the Hero that he was, Alfred couldn't bring himself to ask if he and Ivan could do something else. That would have just been rude to Ivan, which was totally not okay according to the Hero Code of Conduct. Fortunately, Alfred had brought himself to watch all three movies, though he was definitely having nightmares tonight. Oh well, at least it had successfully distracted the Russian from their earlier discussion. Truthfully, that particular topic was one that Alfred had never wanted to bring up again.

Ivan giggled at his love's clinginess and placed a kiss atop his head. "I'm sorry, _lyubov_. Had I known the cinema would have only been playing horror films I would have suggested something else for our evening."

Actually, after hearing about the man's fear of anything supernatural during their drunken night at the bar, Ivan had paid (and threatened) the theatre to play their fines selection of horror movies. And, of course, with Alfred's 'Hero' complex, he knew the little American couldn't refuse a chance to prove his 'manliness', therefore resulting in an armful of Alfred for the past five and a half hours. Suffice to say, the Russian was currently in very good spirits.

Nuzzling further against Ivan's coat, Alfred looked up at the older man in slight confusion. "Didn't those movies scare you at all?" he pressed, eager to hear that he wasn't the only one suffering ill effects from the horror marathon.

"Not so much," Ivan smiled, "In fact, horror happens to be my favorite movie genre." Well, as of tonight it is. "Don't worry, _moi podsolnechnik_, I won't let any of the scary creatures of the dark hurt you."

Normally, Alfred wouldn't have wasted a second defending his 'manhood', but the mention of any type of scary creatures lurking in any sort of darkness only put the blond on edge even more. He tried not to draw too much attention to himself as he let his eyes fall from one shadowy area to the next. Something was bound to pop out at them now that Ivan had said something about it.

"Ah, Ivan! What a coincidence seeing you out here on a night like this, aru."

Letting out a rather high-pitched and unmanly yelp, Alfred practically burrowed into Ivan's coat like a terrified gopher. The older of the two stiffened at the voice, instinctually wrapping his arm protectively around his little American as he turned back to address the third party.

"What do you want?" he growled, annoyed. The last thing he had wanted today was his work interfering, and now it was staring him in the face wearing a brazen smirk.

Realizing it wasn't a ghost or some mutant creature from Chernobyl, Alfred peaked out from where he had buried himself. His blue eyes narrowed suspiciously on the obviously Asian man. Ivan didn't seem to be too fond of him either, and it was apparent the two knew each other.

Yao appeared slightly offended at the Russian's tone of voice, but blew it off with a conceded smile. He stepped forward, eyeing the strange little thing clinging to Ivan's chest. How strange…

"I saw you and your little… 'pet'," he gestured toward Alfred, instantly sparking a small flurry of anger within the officer, "taking a stroll and decided to join you, aru." His voice was practically dripping with false innocence.

Effectively restraining the now furious American, Ivan turned the younger back around, continuing down their path. The less time they spent around the worm, the better. He didn't turn back as he addressed the darker haired male, calling back in flawless Chinese, "If you even think about following us, I will not hesitate to shoot you in between the eyes."

"Being a little cruel now, aren't we?" Yao shot right back in his native tongue, jogging slightly to catch up with the two. He stopped on Ivan's right side, continuing in keeping up with the larger man's pace. "I merely wanted to continue our discussion from a few days ago," he said innocently, dark eyes locked on Alfred who merely glared back. It was obvious the puppy didn't understand what was being said between them, leading the Chinaman to believe this man wasn't involved with Braginski's organization.

"There is nothing more to discuss," the Russian growled lowly, "Now leave, unless you wish for me to kill you." He had really hoped that he wouldn't have to kill or maim anything tonight, especially since things had been going so smoothly until now. Alfred probably wouldn't take kindly to him just shooting Yao, either.

Yao grinned, ignoring the threat to his life as he stuck his nose high in the air, eyes still stuck firmly on Alfred who was proving rather amusing with his surly facial expressions. It was clear the pup didn't like him, then again, most people didn't take too fondly to his presence, so it was quite understandable. He'd just never known someone unaffiliated with the mafia who openly expressed their dislike for him.

"I don't think I've ever seen _you _before," Yao asked, switching back to Russian so the puppy could understand, "What is your name, 'pet'?"

The connotation on the word 'pet' was definitely insinuating this man was referring to him as Ivan's _dog_. Fists clenched at his sides so the knuckles glowed a snowy white, Alfred was practically red-faced at the Asian's transparent rudeness towards him. He was about to reply when Ivan cut him off, probably for the better.

"His name is none of your concern," the silverette bit back sharply, switching dialects back to Chinese mid-thought, "Now either tell me why you're here, or leave. I swear, if you disregard my threats one more time, you and everyone you know will die." His voice had dropped to a dangerous level, violet eyes blazing. Alfred had never heard Ivan sound so terrifying before. The Russian was clearly a force to be reckoned with when angry.

"I merely came here to inquire about the younger Vargas boy," the Asian replied smoothly, as if the threat had never been uttered, finally turning his eyes up from Alfred to Ivan. "Tell me, is he still in your possession?"

Eyeing the smaller man for a moment, Ivan turned his gaze straight ahead as they walked. "…Nyet. He escaped from me three days ago." The Russian prided himself in his ability to lie, hoping Yao wasn't shrewd enough to pick up on his con.

The oldest of the three looked contemplative for a moment about the information given, eyes flashing as thoughts raced. Ivan was starting to become nervous, but he did his best to keep his emotions hidden as this was a game of bluffs. If you allowed your expression to slip even for an instant, the game was lost and the penalty was death.

"I see," the smaller male finally replied, though his self-assured smirk remained, "This is quite unfortunate." He sighed, turning to cross the barren streets, "It was nice chatting with you, aru. Hopefully we can get together again, very soon…Vanya."

Alfred's attention peaked at hearing his lover's nickname through the torrents of Chinese, looking up at the other for some sort of explanation only to find Ivan's eyes narrowed dangerously on the road ahead of them, his cold flushed face just the slightest bit redder. With the way Ivan was glaring at the sidewalk, he thought it may just explode from the force of the Russian's gaze.

It was silent for the longest time as the two continued on, an awkward air surrounding the two that immediately ceased any thought of conversation. Alfred didn't know what would give first; if his head would explode from the massive amount of questions filing his mind or if he would suffocate from the tension in the air. Either way, the blond was pretty sure he'd be dead by the time the two returned to his apartment.

Finally, Alfred could take it no longer. Not only was he getting a headache, but he was becoming dizzy from the lack of oxygen. "So, uh…" he started, blue eyes drifting around aimlessly, landing anywhere but on the silverette, "Who was that?" His uninjured hand absentmindedly fiddled with the silver chain around his neck, thankfully providing his hand with something other to do than sit uselessly at his side.

"He was no one," Ivan replied quickly, tone still irate, "just an acquaintance."

Alfred visibly flinched under the other's harsh voice, but decided to keep going. "From work?"

The other didn't reply as quickly this time, letting a few moments pass before answering. "Da, from work…"

"…"

"…"

"Are…are you mad at me?"

Ivan's eyes quickly came to land on his little lover, finding the blond looking away nervously, refusing to meet his gaze. The fire in his eyes immediately settled, returning the amethyst to their original softness. He put his arm around the younger's slim waist, placing a kiss atop Alfred's head. "Nyet, _moi lyubov_, I am not mad at you. I apologize if anything I had done or said made you feel that way."

Like that, the tension in the atmosphere lightened, and Alfred released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He cast a bright, relieved grin up at the taller man, leaning his head against the Russian's shoulder. "Good, I was starting to get a little nervous there. You don't really like that guy, do you?"

"That is an understatement," the silverette snorted, "Not only that, but he ruined our evening together. He and I will definitely not be on good terms for a while." That was also the understatement of the century. The next time Ivan saw that little bastard, he was putting several bullets in some part of Yao's anatomy, that was for sure.

Alfred smiled, leaning up to place a kiss on Ivan's chin –as it was the only part of him he could reach while the other was standing at full height- "The evening's not totally ruined," he chirped happily, "We still have the rest of the night to make it better." Truth be told, Alfred himself was still a little caught up in that whole 'strange man using Ivan's nickname and in a really seductive manner, no less' thing, and try as he might he couldn't make the thoughts go away. Therefore, perhaps they could spend the rest of the evening to distract one another enough to salvage what was left of their date.

This seemed to soften the other's appearance even further and he nodded in agreement, leaning down to capture Alfred's lips in his own in a passionate kiss. All the while, he couldn't help himself as he wondered what Yao's real intentions were. Was he also after Feliciano, or where his true intentions far more sinister?

* * *

><p>Ooooo, Yao and Romulous are getting devious ) Poor little Alfred is still so clueless it's sad, lol. Feli is also not as sweet and innocent as we first believed, now is he? Let's hope things work out for our two lovers ^J^<p>

Next chapter, bad things happen and hopefully we get a visit from the rest of the Jones family! Stay tuned, and **PLEASE REVIEW!**


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